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'FRIDTHJOF'S   SAGA;- 


A  NORSE  ROMANCE, 


ESAIAS  TEGNER, 

Bishop  of  WexicJ. 


TRANSLATED   FROM   THE   SWEDISH 


THOMAS  A.  E.  HOLCOMB  AND  MARTHA  A,  LYON  HOLCOMB. 


CHICAGO: 

S.   C.    GRIGGS    AND    COMPANY. 

LONDON:  TRUBNER  &  CO. 

1877. 


COPYKIGHT,   1876, 

By  S.  C.  GRIGGS  AND  COMPANY. 


KXIOHT  &  LEONARD,  PRINTERS,  CHICAGO. 
Klecirolypod  by 

A.  Zeese  &  Co.,  Chicago. 


]SrOTE  BY  THE  TEAJ^SLATOES. 


TEGNER'S  poem,  "Fridthjof's  Saga,"  has  been  printed 
in  Sweden  in  many  large  editions  and  in  almost  every 
possible  style.  It  ha&  been  illustrated,  and  it  has  been  set  to 
music.  It  has  been  translated  into  nearly  all  the  modern 
European  languages.  Moreover  it  has  been  rendered  into 
English  by  eighteen  different  translators,  and  has  been  twice 
reprinted  in  America.  Bayard  Taylor  edited  an  American 
edition  of  a  translation  by  Rev.  William  L.  Blackley  of  Dub- 
lin, and  published  it  about  ten  years  ago.  Professor  R.  B. 
Anderson  has  just  published  in  his  "  Viking  Tales,"  a  trans- 
lation made  by  Professor  George  Stephens  of  Copenhagen, 
and  which  received  the  sanction  of  Bishop  Tegner  himself. 

And  yet  we  venture  to  add  another,  and  present  here  the 
first  complete  Ameincan  translation.  Mr.  Taylor  said  in  his 
preface  to  Blackley's  version  that  there  had  never  been  an 
English  Fridthjof's  Saga  which  was  satisfactory  to  Swedes. 
This  is  probably  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  Swedes  have  be- 
come so  familiar  with  its  original  measures  and  so  accustomed 
to  its  peculiar  rhythm,  that  they  cannot  willingly  dispense 
with  any  part  of  the  form  which  Tegner  gave  it.  Several  of 
the  metres  employed  by  him  were  unknown  to  Swedish 
readers  until  they  appeared  in  this  poem.  Tegner's  experi- 
ment of  introducing  them  was  a  successful  one ;  and  they  are 
now,  in  the  minds  of  Swedes,  as  much  a  part  of  the  work  as 


^/7.=?-3 


IV  NOTE   BY   THE   TRANSLATORS. 

the  story  itself.  The  feminine  rhymes,  occurring  in  fifteen 
of  the  twenty-four  cantos,  are  so  melodious  that  no  one  who 
had  heard  the  original,  even  if  he  did  not  understand  a  word 
of  it,  could  be  quite  satisfied  with  a  version  which  does  not 
reproduce  them.  The  feminine  rhymes,  and  the  alliteration 
of  Canto  XXI,  have  presented  obstacles  which  no  single 
translation  has  hitherto  overcome. 

The  original  measures,  the  feminine  rhymes  and  the  allit- 
eration of  "  Ring's  Drapa,"  are,  in  our  estimation,  essential 
features  of  a  good  rendering  of  the  poem,  and  if  we  have  done 
our  work  well  we  do  not  fear  that  any  one  will  think  there 
are  too  many  translations. 

For  a  fuller  history  of  "Fridthjof's  Saga''  than  can  be 
given  in  this  note,  we  refer  the  reader  to  Anderson's  "  Viking 
Tales,"  where  the  sagas  on  which  this  story  is  founded  appear 
in  full. 

The  preparation  of  this  translation  has  been  a  liome  work 
which  has  brightened  for  us  the  firelight  of  many  a  pleasant 
evening.  We  publish  it  in  full  faith  that  it  will  have  a  like 
happy  effect  in  whatever  home  it  may  be  read. 

October,  1876. 


CONTEJ^^TS. 


CANTO  I. 
Fridthjof  and  Ingeborg,        -  ....        1 

CANTO  II. 
King  Bele  and  Tiiorstp:tn,  .  .  .  .  lo 

CANTO  III. 
Fridtiijop's  Inheritance,        -  -  -  -  -      18 

CANTO  IV. 
Fridtiijop's  Courtship,       .  .  .  .  .  36 

CANTO  V. 
King  Ring,  -  -  -  -  -  -      43 

CANTO  VI. 
Fridthjop  PLAys  Chess,      -  .  ...  49 

CANTO   VII. 
Fridtiijop's  Happiness,  -  -  -  -  -      52 

CANTO  VIII. 
The  Parting, 62 

CANTO  IX. 
Tngeborg's  Lament,       -  ....      86 

CANTO  X. 
Fridthjop  at  Sea,  .  .  -  .  .  89 

CANTO  XI. 
Fridthjop  with  Angantyr.     -  -  -  -  -    101 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CANTO   XII. 
The  Return, 

CANTO  XIII. 
Balder's  Funeral  Pile, 

CANTO  XIV. 
Fridthjof  goes  into  Exile, 

CANTO  XV. 
The  Viking  Code,  -  -         .  - 

CANTO  XVI. 
Fridthjof  and  Bjorn, 

CANTO  XVII. 
Fridthjof  comes  to  King  Ring, 

CANTO  XVIII. 
The  Ride  on  the  Ice, 

CANTO  XIX. 
Fridthjof's  Temptation, 

CANTO  XX. 
King  Ring's  Death, 

CANTO  XXI. 
Ring's  Drapa,      -  -  -  - 

CANTO  XXII. 
The  King's  Election, 

CANTO  XXIII. 
Fridthjof  at  his  Father's  Grave,  - 

CANTO  XXIV. 
The  Reconciliation, 

Glossary,  .  .  .  . 


CHARACTERS. 


Bele.     (Pronounced  Bd'-ld.)    King  of  Sogn,  in  Norway. 

Helge  (Ilel'-ga)  and  Halfdan.     His  sons. 

Ingeborg.     ( Ing'-e-horg.)    His  daughter. 

Thorstein.     (Tor'-stine.)    A  peasant,  —  friend  and  companion-in- 
arms of  king  Bele. 

Fridthjof.     (Freer -ijof.)    Son  of  Thorstein. 

Hilding.     Foster-father  and  teacher  of  Fuidtiijcm^'  and  Ingebokg. 

Bjorn.     (B'l/orn.)    A  sworn  foster-brother  of  Fhidtiijof. 

Ring.     King  of  Ringric,  in  Norway. 

Angantyr.     (Ang'-an-teer.)    Ruler  of  the  Orkney  Tshxnds. 

Atle.     (AV-ld.)    A  berserk,  and  one  of  Angantyr's  warriors. 

Scene  —  Northern  Norway  and  the  Orkney  Islands. 


FEIDTHJOFS    SAGA, 


THE 


A 


UNIVERSITY 

FRIDTIIJOF   AND   INGEBORG. 

IN  Hilding's  garden,  green  and  fair, 
Protected  by  his  fostering  care, 
Two  rare  and  stately  plants  were  growing, 
Unequaled  grace  and  heauty  showing. 

The  one  a  stnrdy  oak  tree  grew. 
With  lance-like  stem  so  straight  and  trne, 
Its  crown  in  northern  tempests  shaking 
Like  helmet  plume  in  battle  qnaking. 

The  other  like  a  rose  sprang  forth 

When  tardy  winter  leaves  the  north, 

And  spring,  which  in  the  buds  lies  dreaming, 

Still  waits  with  gems  to  set  them  gleaming. 


fridthjof's  saga. 

Around  the  earth  the  storm-king  raves, 
The  wrestUng  oak  its  anger  braves; 
The  sun  dissolves  frost's  mantle  hoary, 
The  buds  reveal  their  hidden  glory. 

So  they  grew  up  in  joy  and  glee, 
And  Fridthjof  was  the  young  oak  tree; 
Unfolding  in  the  vale  serenely, 
The  rose  was  Ingeborg  the  queenly. 

Saw  you  those  two  by  light  of  day 
You  seem  in  Freyja's  house  to  stay, 
Where  bride-pairs,  golden-haired,  were  swinging 
Their  way  on  rosy  pinions  winging. 

But  seeing  them  by  moonlight  pale 
Kound  dancing  in  the  leafy  vale. 
You'd  think:  The  elf-king  now  advances. 
And  leads  his  queen  in  fairy  dances. 

How  joyful  'twas,  how  lovely  too. 
When  first  he  learned  his  futhorc  through ; 
No  kings  had  e'er  such  honor  brought  them 
As  when  to  Ingeborg  he  taught  them. 


FRIDTH.rOF    AND    IXUEBORG. 

How  joyously  his  boat  would  glide 
With  those  two  o'er  the  dark  blue  tide ; 
While  he  the  driving  sail  was  veering. 
Her  small  white  hands  gave  hearty   che-ring 

No  bird's  nest  found  so  high  a  spot. 
That  he   for  her  could  find   it  not ; 
The  eagle's  nest  from  clouds  he  sundered, 
And  eggs  and  young  he  deftly  plundered. 

However  swift,  there  ran  no  brook, 
But  o'er  it  Ingeborg  he  took ; 
How  sweet  when  roaring  torrents  frighten, 
To  feel  her  soft  arms  round  him  tighten. 

The  first  spring  flowers  by  sunshine  fed, 
The  earliest  berries  turning  red. 
The  first  of  autumn's  golden  treasure. 
He  proffered  her  with  eager  pleasure. 

5ft  !fC  ^  ^  TT  5r» 

But  quickly  sped  are  childhood's  days, — 
There  stands  a  youth  whose  ardent  gaze 
With  pleading  and  with  hope  is  laden, 
And  there,  with  budding  charms,  a  maiden. 


fridthjof's  saga. 

Young  Fridthjof  followed  oft  the  chase, 
Which  led   to  many  a  fearful  place; 
With  neither  spear  nor  lance  defended. 
The   wild  bear's  life  he  quickly  ended. 

When,  struggling,  met  they  breast  to  breast, 
The  hunter  won,  though  hardly  pressed. 
And  brought  the  bearskin  home;   such  prizes. 
Think  you,  a  maiden  e'er  despises? 

For  woman  values  courage  rare; 
The  brave  alone  deserves  the  fair, 
Each  one  the  other's  grace  completing, 
As  brow  and  helmet  fitly  meeting. 

And  when  in  winter  evenings  long, 
By  firelight  reading,  in  a  song. 
Of  fair  abodes  in  radiant  heaven 
To  every  god  and  goddess  given, 

He  thought :  "  Of  gold  is  Ing'borg's  hair, 
A  net  for  rose  and  lily  fair; 
Like  Freyja's  bounteous  golden  tresses, 
A  wheat-field  which  the  breeze  caresses. 


FKIDTHJOF    AND    INGEBORG. 

Fair  Iduirs  beauteous  bosom  beats 
Beneatli  the  green  silk's  safe  retreats, — 
I  know  a  silk  whose  sheen  encloses 
Light;  fairies  two,  with  buds  of  roses. 

And  Frigg's  mild  eyes  are  blue  and  clear 
As  heaven,  when  no  clouds  appear, — 
But  I  know  eyes  beside  whose  sparkles 
A  light,  blue  spring  day  quickly  darkles. 

And  Gerd's  fair  cheeks,  why  praise  them  so? 
The  northern-lights  on  new  fall'n  snow, — 
I  know  of  cheeks  whose  rosy  warnings 
Portray  at  once  two  ruddy  mornings. 

I  know  a  heart  affection-crowned 
Like  Nanna's,  though  not  so  renowned ; 
And  Nanna's  love,  in  song  and  story, 
Is  justly  reckoned  Raider's  glory. 

For  oh,  what  joy  when  death  appears, 
To  have  a  faithful  maiden's  tears! 
To  prove  a  love  so  strong  and  tender, 
With  Hel's  grim  shades  I'd  gladly  wander." 


FRIDTH.JOFS   SAGA. 

Meanwhile  the  princess  gayly  wove 
In  cloth,  blue  wave  and  greenest  grove; 
And  as  she  sang  a  hero's  story, 
She  also  wove  a  hero's  glory. 

For  soon  there  grew  in  snow-white  wool 
Bright  shields  from  off  the  golden  spool, 
Here,  red  prevail  the  battle  lances, 
There,  silver-stiffened  armor  glances. 

Anon  her  fingers  deftly  trace 
A  hero,  —  see,  'tis  Fridthjofs  face; 
And  though  at  first  almost  affrighted, 
She  blushes,  smiles  and  is  delighted. 

The  birch  tree's  stem  where  Fridthjof  went 
Showed  I  and  F  in  beauty  blent; 
As  grew  those  runes  in  one,  delighted. 
So  too  those  hearts  in  one  united. 

When  Day  invests  the  upper  air, 
The  world-king  with   the  golden  hair. 
When  men  to  action  urge  each  other, 
Thev  think  alone  of  one  another. 


FRIDTHJOF    AND   TNGEBORG.  ' 

When  Night  pervades  the  upper  air, 
The  world-queen  with  the  raven  hair, 
When  stars  in  silence "  greet  each  other, 
They  dream  alone  of  one  another. 

"  Thou  Earth,  who  in  the  spring-time  fair, 
Bedeck'st  with  flowers  thine  emerald  hair. 
Give  me  the  best;   in  wreaths  I'll  wind  them. 
And  round  my  Fridthjof s  brow  will  bind  them/ 

"Thou  sea,  who  mak'st  thy  dark  caves  bright 
"With  myriad  pearls'  refulgent  light, 
Give  me  the  best;   I'll  weave  the  clearest 
A  necklace  for  my  Ing'borg  dearest." 

"Thou  ornament  of  Odin's  throne. 

Eye  of  the  world,  0  golden  sun, 

Wert  thou  but  mine,  thy  blazing  splendor 

I'd  give  a  shield  to  my  defender." 

"Thou  guide  in  Odin's  house  at  night, 
Thou  pale  moon  with  thy  lovely  light, 
Wert  thou  but  mine,  thy  pearly  lustre 
'Mid  Ing'borg's  golden  hair  should  cluster." 


FRIDTHJOF  6   SAGA. 

But  Hilding  said :   "  My  foster-son, 
Your  reason  is  by  love  outrun ; 
The  norns  are  partial  in  bestowing 
The  blood  that  in  her  veins  is  flowing. 

To  Odin  high,  where  bright  stars  shine, 
Ascendeth  her  ancestral  line ; 
No  hope  may  son  of  Thorstein  nourish. 
For  like  with  like  alone  can  flourish." 

But  Fridthjof  smiled :   "  My  race,"  he  said, 
"Goes  down  unto  the  valiant  dead; 
The  forest-king  I  slew,  and  merit 
Thereby,  the  honor  kings  inherit. 

"The  free-born  man  will  never  yield, 
He  owns  the  world's  unconquered   lield ; 
For  fate  can  bind  what  she  has  broken, 
And  hope  is  crowned  with  kingly  token. 

"  All  power  is  noble ;   Thor  presides 
In  Thrudvang,  where  all  strength  abides; 
There  worth,  and  not  descent,  is  leader, — 
The  sword  is  e'er  a  valiant  pleader. 


FKIDTHJUF    A^'I>    1^^GEB0KG. 

"I'd  fight  the  world  for  my  sweet  bride, 
Yea,  though  the  thunder-god   defied. 
Be  glad  and  brave,  my  lily,  never 
Shall  mortal  dare  our  lives  to  sever." 


10  fridthjof's  saga. 


KING  BELE   AND   THOESTEIN. 

KING  Bele,  sword-supported,  in  the  palace  stood  ; 
And  with  him  Thorstein, Viking's  sou,  the  peasant  good. 
His  ancient  war  companion,  grown  old  in  glory, 
His  brow  was  scarred  like  rune-stones,  his  hair  was  hoary. 

They  stood,  as  on  the  mountain  two  temples  stand 
To  honored  gods  devoted,  now  half  in  sand; 
And  many  words  of  wisdom  the  walls  are  saying, 
And  holy  recollections  through  domes  are  straying. 

"  The  evening  steals  upon  me,"  king  Bele  said, 
"  The  helmet  now  is  heavy,  and  stale  the  mead ; 
The  fate  of  man  grows  darker,  hut  all  the  clearer 
High  Valhal  shines  before  me,  as  death  draws  nearer. 

"My  sons  I  here  have  summoned,  and  Thorstein's  son; 
For  they  should  cling  together,  as  we  have  done  : 
But  I  would  give  the  eaglets  some  words  of  warning  — 
Words  may  in  death  be  sleeping  ere  dawns  the  morning.'' 


KING    BELE   AND   THORSTEIN.  11 

Obedient  to  the  mandate,  the  three  advance  — 
First,  Helge,  dark  and  gloomy,  with  sullen  glance ; 
He  dwelt  amid  diviners;  the  hand  he  proffered 
Was  red  with  blood  of  victims,  on  altars  offered. 

The  next  who  came  was  Halfdan,  a  light-haired  swain  : 
His  countenance  was  noble,  but  weak  and  vain ; 
He  gaily  bore  a  falchion,  with  which  he  gestured,      J^ 
And  seemed  a  youthful  maiden,  in  armor  vestured. 

And  after  them  came  Fridthjof,  in  mantle  blue; 
He  was  stronger  than  the  others,  and  taller,  too ; 
He  stood  between  the  brothers,  by  contrast  seeming 
Like  noon  'twixt  night  and  morning,  in  splendor  beaming. 

"  Ye  sons,"  the  king  said  gently,  "  my  sun  goes  down ; 
Together  rule  the  kingdom  and  take  the  crown ; 
For  unity  is  power,  and  no  endeavor, 
While  lance  with  ring  is  circled,  its  stem  can  sever. 

"Let  power  stand  as  sentry  on  every  hand, 
And  freedom  bloom  protected  throughout  the  land  : 
The  sword  is  for  protection,  and  not  for  plunder, 
And  shields  are  locks  for  peasants  no  foe  can  sunder. 


12  FRIDTHJOF  S   tSAGA. 

''  How  foolish  is  the  ruler  his  land  to  oppress, 
For  the  people  give  the  power  which  kings  possess ; 
The  crown  of  leafy  verdure  which  decks  the  mountain 
Will  wither  if  the  sunshine  dries  up  the  fountain. 

"On  four  gigantic  pillars  is  heaven's  throne  — 
The  throne  of  nations  resteth  on  law  alone ; 
Destruction  waits  on  judgment  if  misdirected ; 
By  right  are  men  ennobled  and  kings  perfected. 

"In  Disarsal,  0  Helge,  the  high  gods  dwell  — 
Not  pinioned  as  the  snail  is  within  his  shell ; 
As  far  as  daylight  flieth,  or  thought's  swift  pinion, 
Far  as  resound  the  echoes,  is  gods'  dominion. 

Jj^   "The  offered  hawk  gives  tokens  which  oft  deceive. 
Not  all  runes  monumental  can  we  believe; 
But  an  honest  heart,  0  Helge,  of  pure  endeavor, 
With  Odin's  runes  is  written,  misleading  never. 

"Be  not  severe,  king   Helge,  but  firm  and  staid: 
The  sword  that  bites  the  sharpest  has  the  limberest  blade. 
Kings  are  adorned  by  mercy,  as  shields  by  Howers, 
And  spring  can  more  accom))lisli  than  winter's  powers. 


I 


KING    BELE   AND   THORSTEIN.  13 


"  A  man,  however  mighty,  deprived  of  friends, 

Like  tree  of  bark  denuded,  how  soon  life  ends ! 

But  he  by  friends  surrounded,  like  trees  shall  flourish, 

Whose  crowns,  in  groves  protected,  the  brooklets  nourish. 

"  Boast  not  ancestral  wisdom ;  each  man  alone 
A  single  bowstring  uses,  and  that  his  own ; 
What  matters  it  to  any  the  worth   that's  buried? 
By  its  own  waves  the  current  o'er  seas  is  carried. 

"A  joyous  spirit,  Halfdan,  advantage  brings. 
But  idle  talk  is  needless,  and  most,  to  kings; 
Of  hops,  as  well  as  honey,  is  mead  compounded, 
Let  sports  on  vigor,  lances  on  steel,  be  founded. 

"No  man  has  too  much  wisdom,  though  learned  he  be. 
And  much  too  little,  many  less  learned  than  he; 
To  fools,  though  high  in  station,  no  praise  is  meted, 
The  wise  by  all  are  honored,  though   lowly  seated. 

'^The  steadfast  friend,  0  Halfdan!  of  mingled  blood, 
Lives  near  indeed,  though  distant  be  his  abode; 
But  to  thy  foeman's  dwelling  the   way  is  weary, — 
Though  standing  by  thy  pathway,  'tis  far  and  dreary. 


14  fridthjof's  saga. 

"  For  friend  choose  not  the  lirst  one  that's  so  disposed, — 
An  empty  house  stands  open,  a  full  one  closed; 
Choose  one,  the  best,  0  Halfdan,  nor  seek  another, 
The  world  soon  knows  the  secrets  of  three  togetlier." 

These  words  then  Thorstein  uttered  in  clearest  tone: 
"King  Bele  unto  Odin  goes  not  alone; 
We've  always  stood  together,  whatever  tried  us. 
And  death,  now  drawing  near,  shall  not  divide  us. 

"  Fridthjof,  old  age  hath  whispered  in  my  rapt  ear 
Full  many  words  of  wisdom,  which  thou  must  hear. 
Birds  fly  from  graves  to  Odin,  with  wisdom  freighted. 
The  "words  by  old  men  spoken,  should  not  be  slighted. 

"First,  give  the  high  gods  honor;  for  good  or  ill. 
Storms  come  as  well  as  sunshine,  by  Heaven's  will. 
The  gods  perceive  the  secrets  in  thy  possession. 
And  years  must  make  atonement  for  each  transgression. 

"Obey  the  king:   most  wisely  rules  one  alone, 
The  eyes  of  night  are  many,  day  has  but  one. 
The  better  are  contented  by  best  directed, — 
The  blade  must  have  a  handle  to  be  perfected. 


KING    BELE    AND   THORSTEIN. 


"Great  strength  is  heaven's  dower;  but,  Fridthjof,  learn 
That  power  de.void  of  wisdom,  can   little  earn. 
Strong  bears  by  one  are  taken, — -one  man   of  reason; 
Set  shields  to  turn  the  sword  stroke,  let  law  stop  treason. 

''A  few  may  fear  the  haughty,  whom  all  despise. 
And  with  the  proud  in  spirit,  destruction  lies: 
Those  once  flew  high,  who're  now  on  crutches  creeping; 
The  winds  rule  fortune,  weather,  time  of  reaping. 

"The  day  thou'lt  rightly  prize,  whose  sun  has  sunk, 
Advice  when  it  is  followed,  and  ale  when  drunk. 
The  hopes  of  youth  on  shadows  are  often  rested. 
But  strength  of  sword  and  friendship,  by  use  are  tested. 

"  Trust  not  the  snow  of  spring-time,  nor  night-old  ice ; 
The  serpent  when  he  sleepeth,  nor  girl's  advice; 
The  mind  of  changeful  woman  not  long  abideth, 
And  fickleness  of  spirit,  'neath  flower-tints  hideth. 

"All  men  will  surely  perish  with  all  they  prize. 

But  one  thing  know  I,  Fridthjof,  which  never  dies, — 

And  that  is  reputation !    therefore,  ever 

The  noble  action  strive  for,  the  good  endeavor." 


16  fridth.tof'8  saga. 

So  warned  the  aged  chieftains  in  the  palace  hall. 
As  since  the  skald  has  chanted  in  Havamal, 
So  passed  these  sayings  ^ithy  through  generations; 
And  still  from  graves  they  whisper  'mid  northern  nations. 

Then  many  words  and  heartfelt,  these  warriors  found 
To  tell  their  lasting  friendship,  so  wide  renowned. 
How  friends  till  death,  if  fortune  or  frowned  or  slighted. 
Like  two  hands  clasped  together  they  stood  united. 

"And  back  to  back  in  battle  we  held  the  field. 
And  which  way  norns  did  threaten,  they  smote  a  shield; 
Before  you  now  to  Valhal  we  old  men  hasten, 
And  may  their  fathers'  spirit  our  children's  chasten." 

The  king  said  much  concerning  brave  Fridthjof's  worth, 
Heroic  power  surpassing  all  royal  birth; 
And  much  was  said  by  Thorstein,  how  graces  cluster 
Round  Northland's  honored  monarchs,  with  Asa-lustre. 

"But  hold  ye  fast  together,  ye  children  three. 

The  Northland  then  your  conqueror  shall  never  see; 

For  royalty  and  power,  when  duly  ordered, 

Are  like  a  bright  shield  golden,  by  blue  steel  bordered. 


I 


KING    BELE   AND   THORSTEIN.  17 


**  Salute  my  daughter  Ing'borg,  the  rosebud  sweet, 
In  quiet   was  she  nurtured, as  seemed  meet; 
Protect  her,  lest  the  storm-kiug,  with  cruel  power, 
Should  fasten  in  his  helmet  my  tender  flower. 

'•  I  lay  on   thee,  king  Helge,  a  father's  care. 
Love  Ing'borg  as  a  daughter,  the  jewel  rare  I 
'  Restraint  galls  noble  spirits,  but  gentle  manner 
1  Will  lead  both   man  and  woman  to  right  and  honor. 

'•But  lay  us  now,  ye  children,  in  two  mound-graves, 
Close  where  the  blue  gulf  tosses  its  ceaseless  waves; 
Our  souls  shall  then  forever  enjoy  the  ringing 
Of  dirges  which  in  breaking  the  waves  are  singing. 

''  When  the  moon's  pale  beams  the  mountains  and  valleys  All, 
And  midnight's  dew  is  falling  on  grove  and  hill; 
Then  will  we  sit,  0  Thorstein,  above  our  pillows, 
And  talk  about  the  future,  across  the  billows. 

"And   now,  farewell,  ye  children,  our  work  is  done; 

Unto  the  Allfather  gladly   we  hasten   on, 

Like  weary  rivers  longing  for  sea's  caressing^; 

On  you  be  Thor's  and  Odin's  and  Frey's  rich  blessing." 


18  fridthjof's  saga. 


III. 


FEIDTHJOFS   INHEKITANCE. 

BURIED  were  Bele  and  Thorstein  together,  as  they  had 
commanded ; 
High  rose  their  grave-mounds  on  each  side  the  gulf  by 

the  blue  rolling  water, 
Death   having  sundered   the   hearts  that  in   life  were  so 

closely  united. 
Helge  and   Halfdan,  by  will  of  the   people,  took  jointly 

the  kingdom 
Left  by  their  father;  but  Fridthjof,  an  only  son,  heired 

alone   Framness. 
Took   unmolested  possession,   and   settled   himself    there 

in  quiet. 
Stretching  around    him   for   twelve   miles   unbroken   his 

acres  extended; 
Three   sides   were   dale,   hill   and    mountain,    the    fourth 

side   looked   out   on    the   ocean ; 
Crowned  were   the   hill-tops  with    forests  of  birch-woud, 

but,  on    their   sides   sloping, 


fridthjof's  inheritance.  19 

Golden  corn  plentiful  grew,  and  like  billows  the  tall  rye 

was  waving. 
Many  in  number  the  lakes  which  their  mirrors  held  up 

for   the   mountains; 
Held  them  up,  too,  for   the  woods  in  whose  thickets  the 

high-horned   elks  wandered, 
Making  there  kingly  roads,  drinking  from  running  brooks 

counted  by  hundreds. 
But  in  the  valleys  wide,  on  the  smooth  greensward  were 

quietly  grazing 
Grlossy-skinned   herds,  which  with  udders  distended  now 

long   for  the  milk-pail. 
Scattered    among    them   were    myriads    of    white-wooled 

sheep,  constantly  moving, 
Looking    like    fleecy   clouds   sailing    serenely   across   the 

blue  heavens. 
Wafted  now  hither  now  thither  in  crowds  by  the  winds 

in  the   spring-time. 
Twelve    times    two    coursers,   fierce    whirlwinds,    defiant 

though   fettered. 
Stood   in   the   rows  of  stalls,  stamping  and    restless,  the 

meadow-hay  chewing. 


20  fridthjof's  saga. 

Knotted  their  long  manes  with  red,  and  their  hoofs 
were  with    iron    shoes   glistening. 

Standing  apart  was  the  drinking-hall,  built  of  the  choic- 
est fir  timber; 

Counting  ten  twelves  to  the  hundred,  not  five  hundred 
warriors   assembled 

Filled  up  the  spacious  apartment,  Avhen  all  met  to  drink 
mead   at   Yule-time. . 

Down  through  the  middle,  from  end  to  end,  ran  a 
strong   table  of  stone-oak. 

Polished  with  wax  and  like  steel  shining ;  carved  on 
two   pillars  of  elm-wood. 

Far  at  one  end,  Frey  and  Odin  supported  the  dais  of  honor, 

Odin  with  lordly  look,  Frey  with  the  sun  for  a  crest  on 
his   bonnet. 

'Twixt  the  two,  on  a  bear-skin  (black  as  a  coal  was 
this   bear-skin, 

►Scarlet  the  mouth,  while  the  tips  of  the  claws  were  with 
bright   silver   shining), 

Thorstein  among  his  friends  sat  —  Hospitality  minister- 
ing  to  Gladness. 

Oft  when  the  moon  in  the  heavens  was  riding,  the  old 
man   related 


FRIDTHJOF*S   INHERITANCE.  21 

Wonders  of  foreign  lands  seen  by  him  when  as  a  viking 

he   journeyed, 
Far  on   the   waves   of    the   Baltic,   the   White,   and    the 

Northern    seas   tossing. 
Mutely  the  company  listened.     Fixed  were  their  eyes  on 

the   speaker, 
Even  as  bees  upon  roses ;  the  poet  was  thinking  of  Brage,* 
Brage  with  silver  beard  flowing,  and   tongue   clothed  in 

wisdom   the   choicest, 
Sitting  'neath  shadowy  birches,  telling  a  story  by  Mimer's 
Unceasingly  murmuring  fountain,  he  too  a  saga  unending. 
Covered    with    straw  was   the   floor,   and   upon   a   walled 

hearth    in    the   center,  , 

Constantly    burned,    warm    and    cheerful,    a    Are,    while 

down  the  wide  chimney 
Twinkling   stars,   heavenly   friends,   glanced    upon    guest 

and  hall,  quite   unforbidden. 
Studded  Avith  nails  were  the  walls,  and  upon  them  were 

hanging 
Helmets  and  coats-of-mail  closely  together ;  also  between 

them 

*  Bra-ge  (two  syllables). 


22  fridthjof's  saga. 

Here    and    there   flashed    down   a   sword,   like   a   meteor 

shooting   at   evening. 
Brighter  than  helmet  or  sword  were  the  sparkling  shields 

ranged  round  the  chamber; 
Bright   as   the   face  of  the   sun  were   they,  clear   as    the 

moon's   disc   of  silver. 
Oft  as  the  horns  needed   filling,  there   passed    round  the 

table  a  maiden ; 
Modestly  blushing  she  cast  down  her  eyes,  her  beautiful 

image 
Mirrored    appeared    in    the    shields,   and    gladdened    the 

heart  of  each  warrior. 

Rich  was  the  house,  and  the  eye  of  the  stranger,  which- 
ever way  gazing, 

Rested  on  cellar  well  filled,  or  on  pantry  or  press  over- 
flowing. 

Jewels  the  rarest,  trophies  of  conquest,  gleamed  in  pro- 
fusion ; 

Oold  carved  in  runes  with  great  skill,  and  wonderful 
things  wrought  in  silver. 

Chief  in  this  limitless  treasure  three  things  were  most 
of  all   valui'd. 


fridthjof's  inheeitance.  2-] 

First   of    the   three   was   a   sword,   which    from   sire   and 

from   grandsire  descended. 
Called  Angermdil,  or  grief-wader,  sometimes,  too,  brother 

of  lightning. 
Far,  far   away   in    the   East   it  was    forged — so   at   least 

says   the   story  — 
Tempered   in    fire   by   the   dwarfs,    Bjorn    Bluetooth    the 

first   one  wlio  bore  it. 
Bjorn    lost   at   once   both    the   sword   and    liis   life    in    a 

bravely-fought  battle, 
Southward  in  Groning   Sound,  where  he    struggled  with 

Vifil   the  powerful. 
Vifil's   possessions  descended   to  Viking. 

At  Woolen-Acre, 
Old  and  infirm,  there  lived  a  great  king  with  a  beautiful 

daughter. 
See,  from  the  depths  of  the  forest  there  cometh  a  giant 

misshapen, 
Higher   in    stature   than   man,    a   monster   ferocious   and 

shaggy. 
Boldly  demanding  a  hand-to-hand   combat,   or   kingdom 

and   daughter. 


24  fridthjof's  saga. 

No  one,  however,  accepted  the  challenge,  for  none  had  a 

weapon 
Able  his  hard   skull    to  pierce,  and  therefore   they  called 

him  the  Iron-skull. 
Viking,  whose  winters  scarce  fifteen  had  numbered,  nobly 

advancing, 
Entered    the   fray,    secure   in   his   strong   arm   and    good 

Angervadil, 
Cleft  at  one  blow   the   hideous   goblin,  and    rescued    the 

maiden. 
Viking   bequeathed   the   good    weapon    to   Thorstein,    his 

son,  and  Thorstein, 
To  Odin  ascended,  bequeathed  it  to  Fridthjof.     Whenever 

he  drew  it. 
Light  filled  the  hall  as  when  northern  lights  entered,  o-r 

lightning  flashed  through  it. 
Hammered  of  gold  was  the  hilt,  with  strange  letters  'twas 

covered ; 
Wonderful  mysteries  were  they  in  Northland,  but  known 

to  the  peojile 
Who  dwell  near  the  gates  of  the  sun,  where  our  fathers 

lived  ere  they  came  hither. 


fridthjof's  inheritakce.  25 

Ftiiiit    were    the    runes    when    the    land    was    in    quiet 

throughout  all  its  borders; 
But   when    the   followers  of  Hild  were   summoned,  then 

were  they  burning- 
Red   as   the   comb   of    a    cock   when   he   fighteth.      Lost 

was  the  warrior 
Who  met,  on  the  field  of  encounter,  the  blade  with  its 

red  letters  glowing. 
Highly  renowned  was  that  sword,  and  of  swords  was  the 

chief  in  the  Northland. 

Next   highly   prized  was   a   ponderous   arm-ring,  widely 

notorious. 
Forged  by  the  Vulcan  of  northern  tradition,  the  halting 

smith  Volund; 
Three    marks    it   weighed,    and    gold    was    the    metal    of 

which  it  was  fashioned ; 
Carved   were   the   heavens   with   twelve   towering   castles, 

where  dwell  the  immortals, — 
Emblem   of    changing  months,   called   by   the  poets   the 

sun's  glorious  dwelling.' 
First  there  was   Frey's  castle  Alfheim,  that  is   the   sun, 

which  born  newly, 


2b  fridthjof's  saga. 

starts  once  again  to  ascend  the  steep  pathwa}^  of  Heaven 

at  Yule-time. 
There  too  was  Sokvabek ;  seated  within  it  were  Odin  and 

Saga 
Drinking  together  their  wine   from   a  gold  shell,— that 

shell  is  the  Ocean, 
Colored  with  gold  from  the  glow  of  the  morning.     Saga 

is  Spring-time, 
Writ   on    the   green   of   the    fresh    springing   field,   with 

flowers  for  letters. 
Balder,  the  kingly,  is  pictured  there,  throned  on  the  sun 

at  midsummer. 
Which  pours   from  the   firmament  riches   untold, —  per'- 

sonified  goodness; 
For  lights  are   the  good,   radiant,   resplendent,    but   the 

evil  are  darkness. 
Constantly  rising  the  sun  groweth  weary;    the  good  also 

falter. 
Giddy   with   walking   precipitous   heights;    sighing   they 

downward 
Sink  to  the  land  of  the  shades, —  down  tO/ Hel.    That  is 

of  Balder 


fridthjof's  inheritance.  27 

The  funeral  pile.    Glitner,  the  castle  of  Peace,  is  there  ; 

seated 
Within  it  was  Forsyte,*  scales  in  hand,  meting  out  justice. 
Many  more  pictures  with  these  there  engraven,  betoken 

the  conflict 
Waged  against  darkness,  on  earth  and  in  heaven;  bright 

were  they  shining, 
Wrought   by   a   master's    hand   on   the   broad    arm-ring. 

Clustering  rubies 
Crown  its  high  center,  e'en  as  in  summer  the  sun  crowns 

the  heavens. 
Long  was  the  circlet  a  family  heir-loom.    On  the  side  of 

the  mother 
Traced  they  their  pedigree  back   to  old  Volund,  ancestor 

mighty. 
Once,    says   tradition,    the    jewel    was    stolen    by    robber 

named  Soti, 
Roaming  abroad  through  the  seas.    Long  was  it  ere  'twas 

recovered. 
Finally  (so   runs   the   story)   'twas   said   that   the   robber 

had  buried 
Himself  with  his  ship,  and  his  treasure,  deep  on  the  far 

coast  of  Britain. 

*  For-Be-te, 


28  FRIDTHJOFS   SAGA. 

Pleasure  or  quiet  he  found  not,  a  ghost  was  his  irksome 

companion. 
Hearing  the  rumor,  Thorstein  with  Bele  the  dragon  ship 

mounted. 
Dashed  through  the  foaming  waves,  straight  to  the  place 

of  the  sepuleher  steering. 
Wide  as  a  temple's  arch,  or  a  king's  gateway,  bedded  in 

gravel. 
Covered  with   grassy   turf,  arched   to   the   top,  the   tomb 

rose  forbidding. 
Light  issued   from   it.     Through   a  small   crevice  within 

the  closed  portal. 
Peered  the  two  champions.    There  the  pitched  viking  ship 
Stood  with  its  masts,  its  yards  and  its  anchor.     High  in 

the  stern  sheets 
Was  seated  a  terrible  figure,  clad  in  a  mantle  all  flaming. 
Furious  demon   scouring  a  blade   that  with   blood   spots 

was  covered. 
Vain  was  his  labor,  naught  could  remove  them.    All  his 

rich  booty 
Round  him  was  scattered,  and  on  his  arm  was  the   ring 
*he  had  stolen. 


fridthjof's  inheritance.  29 

"Go  we,"  said   Bele,  "down   thither  and   fight  with   the 

hideous  goblin, 
Two  'gainst  a  spirit  of  fire."     But  Thorstein  lialf  angrily 

answered : 
"  One  against  one  is  the  rule  of  our  fathers.    I  fight  well 

singly." 
Long  they  contended  which  first  of  the  two  the  encounter 

should  venture. 
Proving    the    perilous   journey.     Bele    at    last    took    his 

helmet, 
Shaking  two  lots  therein.     Watched  by  the  stars  Thorstein 

saw  by  their  shimmer 
His  was  the  lot  first  appearing.    A  ])low  from  his  javelin 

of  iron 
Cleft   the   huge   bolts   and   strong  locks.     He   descended. 

Did  any  one  question 
What  was  revealed  in  the  cavern,  then  was  he  silent  and 

shuddered. 
Bele  at  first  heard  strange  music.    It  rang  like  the  song 

of  a  goblin ; 
Then  was  a  clattering  noise,  like   the   clashing  of  blades 

in  a  combat, 


30  fridthjof's  saga. 

Lastly   {I   hideous   shriek, —  then   silence.     Out    staggered 

Thorstein, 
Confounded,  bewildered,  all  pale   was  his  face,  for  with 

death  had  he  battled; 
Yet  bore  he  the  arm-ring  a  trophy.    "'Twas  dear  bought," 

he  often  said  frowning; 
"  Once  in  my  life  was  I  frightened ;  'twas  when  I  recovered 

that  arm-ring." 
Widely   renowned   was   that   ring,  and   of  rings  was   the 

chief  in  the  Northland. 

Lastly  the  ship,  called  Ellide,  was  one  of  the  family  jewels. 

Viking,  so  say  they,  returning  triumphant  from  venture- 
some journeys. 

Sailed  along  coasting  near  Framness.  There  he  espied  on 
a  shipwreck, 

Carelessly  swinging,  a  sailor,  sporting  as  'twere  with  the 
billows. 

Noble  of  figure,  tall  in  his  stature,  joyful  his  visage, 

Changeable  too,  like  the  waves  of  the  sea  when  they  sport 
in  the  sunshine, — 

Blue  was  his  mantle,  golden  his  girdle  and  studded  with 
corals ; 


fridthjof's  inheritance.  31 

Sea-green  his  hair,  but  his  beard  was  as  white  as  the  foam 
of  the  ocean. 

Viking  his  serpent  steered  thither  to  rescue  the  unfortunate 
stranger, — 

Took  him  half  frozen  to  Framness,  and  there  as  a  guest 
entertained  him. 

When  by  his  host  to  repose  he  was  bidden,  smiling  he 
answered: 

"  Fair  sits  the  wind,  and  my  ship  which  you  boarded,  is 
not  yet  disabled; 

Long  ere  the  morning  I  trust  she  will  bear  me  a  hun- 
dred miles  seaward. 

Thanks  for  thy  bidding,  'twas  well  meant  and  kindly. 
Ah!  could  I  only 

Leave  thee  a  gift  to  remind  thee  of  me !  but  afar  on  the 
ocean 

Lieth  my  kingdom.  Perhaps  in  the  morning  'twill  waft 
thee  a  token." 

Viking  next  day  by  the  sea-shore  was  standing,  when 
lo !   like  an  eagle 

Madly  pursuing  its  prey,  a  dragon  ship  sailed  into  har- 
bor. 


32  fridthjof's  saga. 

Nowhere    was  visible  sailor   or  captain,  or  even  a  steers- 
man; 
Winding  'mid  rocks  and  through  breakers,  the  rudder  a 

path  sought  unaided; 
When  the  firm  strand  it  was  nearing,    sudden,   as   ruled 

by  a  spirit, 
Reefed  were  the   sails  unassisted.     Untouched  by   finger 

of  mortal. 
The  anchor  sped   through  the  clear  water   and   fastened 

its  barbs  in  the  bottom. 
Viking    gazed,    speechless    with    wonder;    the    sportive 

winds  sang  in  low  cadence: 
"/Eger  the  rescued  forgetteth  no  kindness,  he  gives  thee 

the  dragon." 
Kingly  the  gift  to  behold.    The  lieavy  curved  planks  of 

oak  timber 
Matched  not  together  like  others,  but  grew  in  one  broad 

piece  united. 
It  stretched  its  huge  form  in  the   sea   like  a  dragon,  its 

stem  proudly  lifted, 
A   stately  head    high   in   the  air.     Its   throat   with   red 

gold  was  all  blazing; 


FRII)T11J01<"S    INHERITANCE.  33 

Sprinkled  its   belly  with   yellow    and   azure,  and  back  of 

the  rudder, 
Covered   with   scales   of  pure   silver,   its   tail   lashed    the 

waves  in  a  circle. 
Bordered  with    red    were   its   inky  black  pinions.     When 

all  unfolding, 
It  flew  in  a  race   with   the  whirlwind,   and   left   far   be- 
hind the  swift  eagle. 
When  it  was  filled  with  armed  warriors,  you'd  fancy  you 

were  beholding 
A   citadel   swimming    the   billows,   or   palace   o'er   ocean 

wave  flying. 
Widely  renowned  •  was    that   ship,   and    of   ships   was  the 

chief  in  the  Northland. 

All    this   and   other  vast  treasures   did   Fridthjof  receive 

from  his  father. 
Scarce  was  there^  found  in  the  Northland  any  with  richer 

possessions. 
Save   were   he    heir   of  a   kingdom,    for   of  kings  is  the 

wealth  always  greatest. 
Though   from  no  king  he  descended,  yet   was   his  mind 

truly  royal. 


34  J?'K1DTHJ0FS   SAGA. 

Gourfceous,    noble    and   kind.     Daily    became    he    more 

famous. 
Twelve  gray-haired  champions,  valorous  chieftains,  sat  at 

his  table, 
Thorstein's  steel-breasted   companions,  whose  brows  were 

with  scars  deeply  furrowed. 
Next  to  the  warriors  was    seated   a  youth  of  the   same 

age  as  Fridthjof, — 
Like  a  fresh  rose  'mid  the  dry  leaves  of  autumn ;  Bjorn 

was  this  blossom. 
Grown  up  with  Fridthjof,  in  days  pf  their  boyhood  their 

blood  they  commingled. 
Brothers  becoming  in   good   northern    fashion,   sworn  to 

each  other 
In  joy  and  in  grief,   the  survivor  avenging  the  death  of 

his  comrade. 

In  the  midst  of  the  warriors  and  guests  who  had  come 
to  the  funeral  banquet, 

Fridthjof,  a  sorrowing  host,  his  eyelids  with  tears  over- 
flowing 

Drank  in  accordance  with  ancestral  usage,  a  skoal  to 
his  father. 


fbidthjof's  inheritance.  35 

Heard  the  old  minstrels  sing  loudly  his  praises,  a  thun- 
dering drapa, 

Rightfully  took  of  his  late  father's  seat  undisputed  pos- 
session, 

And  sat  between  Odin  and  Frey.  So  sitteth  Thor  up 
in  Valhal. 


36  fridthjof's  saga. 


IV. 


FKIDTHJOF'S   COURTSHIP. 

LOUD  sounded  the  music  in  Fridthjof's  hall, 
His  ancestors'  praises  sang  poets  all. 
O'erwhelmed  with  sadness 
Is  Fridfehjof,  he  hears  not  their  songs  of  gladness. 

The  earth  has  again  donned  her  mantle  of  green 
And  dragon-ships  breasting  the  waves  are  seen ; 
But  Fridthjof,  pondering, 
Is  at  the  moon  gazing  or  in  the  woods  wandering. 

How  fortunate  was  he  but  lately,  and  glad, 
For  Helge  and  Halfdan  as  guests  he  had ; 
And  with  the  brothers, 
Came  Ingeborg;   Fridthjof  scarce  saw  the  others. 

He  sat  by  her  side  and  her  soft  hand  he  pressed ; 
He  felt  in  the  pressure  returned  him  thrice  blest, 
Enraptured  gazing 
On  her  whom  he  honored  beyond  all  praising. 


fridthjof's  courtship.  37 

In  glad  conversation  recalling  their  plays, 

When  life's  morning  dew  presaged_bright  future  days,' 

For  memory  truthful 

Keeps  life's  I'osy  gardens  in  noble  minds  youthful. 

How  fondly  she  greets  him  from  dale  and  from  park. 
From  loving  names  growing  in  white  birchen  bark, 
From  hills  where  flourish 
The  oaks  which  the  ashes  of  heroes  nourish. 

"'Tis  never  so  pleasant  at  home  as  here, 
For  Half  dan  is  childish  and  Helge  severe; 
The  kings  attending 
To  nothing  but  prayers  and  praise  unending. 

"And  no  one  (nor  could  she  her  blushes  hide) 

To  whom  my  complainings  I  may  confide. 

The  palace  building, 

How  stifling  compared  with  the  groves  of  Hilding. 

"The  doves  that  we  petted,  and  tamed  and  fed. 
By  hawks  oft  affrighted  away  have  fled; 
One  pair  remaineth, 
Let  Fridthjof  take  one,  one  Ing'borg  retaineth. 


\  FRIDTHJOF'S   SAGA. 

"She'll  long  like  another  her  friend  to  see, — 

And  homeward  returning  will  fly  to  me: 

Your  message,  bind  it 

Beneath  her  fleet  pinion, —  there  none  will  find  it." 

All  day  they  sat  whispering  side  by  side, 

Nor  ceased  the  low  murmur  at  eventide; 

So  breathe  in  whispers 

The  zephyrs  through  lindens  at  twilight  vespers. 

But  now  she  has  gone,  and  his  joy  forsooth 
Has  gone  with  the  maiden.     The  blood  of  youth 
His  cheek  is  mounting, 
He  silently  sighs  while  the  past  recounting. 

His  grief  at  her  absence  he  sent  by  the  dove, 
Which  joyous  set  out  with  its  message  of  love; 
But  oh!   new  sorrow, — 
It  stayed  with  its  mate,  nor  returned  on  the  morrow. 

His  conduct  to  Bjorn  was  displeasing;    said  he: 

"What  ails  our  young  eagle,  he  seems  to  be 

Like  some  shy  sparrow, — 

Has  his  breast  or  his  pinion  been  pierced  by  an  arrow? 


fridthjof's  courtship.  39 

"What  wilt  thou,  Fridthjof?     We  have  for  need 
The  yellow  bacon,  and  the  good,  brown  mead; 
And  poets  singing, 
Their  jubilant  music  forever  ringing. 

"The  steeds  impatiently  stamp  in  the  stalls, — 
To  the  chase!   to  the  chase!   the  falcon  calls; 
But  Fridthjof  retaineth 
His  gloom.     He  hunteth  in  clouds  and  complaineth. 

"Ellide  is  restless  upon  the  main, — 

She  frets  and  she  chafes  at  her  cable  chain; 

Lie  still  my  treasure! 

Our  Fridthjof  is  peaceable.     Strife  is  no  pleasure. 

"Who  dies  on  his  pallet,  is  dead  indeed; 

By  the  lance,  as  did  Odin,  we'll  die,  if  need, — 

And  thus  ensure  us 

A  welcome  to  Hel,  and  heaven  secure  us." 

Then  Fridthjof  unloos'd  the  dragon, —  and  proud, 
With  full  swelling  canvas,  the  waves  she  plowed, 
And  swiftly  over 
The  bay  to  the  palace  she  bore  the  lover. 


40  PRIDTHJOF^S   SAGA. 

The  kings  were  at  Bele's  grave  met  that  day, — 
To  administer  justice  and  counsel  weigh; 
Fridthjof  advances, — 
His  voice  sounds  afar  like  clashing  lances. 

"Ye  kings,  lovely  Ing*borg,  the  people's  pride, 
I  choose,  from  all  women,  to  be  my  bride; 
The  king  intended 
Our  lives  thus  united  in  one  should  be  blended. 

"He  reared  us  together  in  Hilding's  sight, — 
As  two  forest  saplings  whose  tops  unite, — 
A  golden  cover 
Of  lace  bindeth  Freyja  the  green  tops  over. 

"My  sire  was  a  peasant,  no  earl  nor  king, — 
Yet  his  memory  will  live  while  the  poets  sing; 
In  runic  story 
The  grave-mounds  are  telling  my  ancestors'  glory. 

"I  could  easily  win  me  a  crown  and  land. 

But  choose  to  remain  on  my  native  strand; 

In  battle  wielding 

My  sword  for4he  king,  and  the  peasant  shielding. 


fkidth.tof's  courtship.  41 

"  On  king  Bcle's  grave  we  are  standing  now, 
He  hears  every  word  in  the  grave  below, 
With  nie  he  pleadeth, — 
A  dead  father's  counsel  a  wise  son  heedeth." 

Tlien  Helge  uprose,  and  replied  with  scorn, 

"Our  sister  was  not  for  a  peasant  born, 

To  kings  'tis  given 

To  strive  for  our  Ingeborg,  daughter  of  heaven. 

"You  l)oastfully  call  yourself  chief  of  swords, — 
Win  men  by  violence,  women  by  words; 
Boast  not  of  slaughter. 
For  arrogance  winneth  not  Odin's  daughter. 

"My  kingdom  doth  not  seek  protection  from  thee, 
I  shield  it  myself.     My  man  wouldst  thou  be, — 
A  situation 
Among  my  domestics  befits  thy  station." 

"Thy  servant!   no,  never!"   was  Fridthjof's  reply, 
"My  father  had  never  a  master, —  shall  I? 
From  thy  silver  dwelling 
Now  fly,  Angervadil,  the  insult  repelling." 


42  fridthjof's  saga. 

In  sunshine  now  glitters  the  blue  steel  blade, — 

Displaying  its  letters  in  flaming  red. 

"My  good  sword  loyal, 

Thy  lineage  at  least,"  said  Fridthjof,  "is  royal. 

"And  were  it  not  now  for  the-high  grave's  renown. 
Eight  here  would  I  hew  thee,  swarthy  king,  down  ; 
Yet  will  I  teach  thee 
To  come  not  again  where  my  sword  can  reach  thee." 

So  saying,  he  severed  at  one  fell  blow 

The  gold  shield  of  Helge  which  hung  on  a  bough. 

It  fell  asunder, — 

Its  clang  on  the  grave-mound  was  echoed  under. 

"Well  done,  Angervadil!   lie  still  and  dream 
Of  high  achievements, —  meanwhile  the  gleam 
Of  rune-fires  paling! 
And  now  we'll  go  home  o'er  the  blue  waters  sailing." 


KING   RING,  43 


V. 


KING   RING. 

KING  RING  moved  his  gold-stool  back.     Then  up- 
rose 
Champion  and  dreamer, — 
For  where  in  the  North  does  such  goodness  repose? 
His  word  o'erflows 

With  the  wisdom  which  dwells  in  god  Mimer. 

Like  the  groves  of  the  peaceful  gods  was  his  land, — 

War's  sable  pinion 
Cast  not  a  shadow  where  on  every  hand 
Flowers  expand 

Through  the  length  of  his  quiet  dominion. 

Here  Justice  alone  on  the  judgment-seat 

With  Right  presided; 
And  Peace  every  year  paid  its  tribute  meet, — 
While  golden  wheat 

With  plenty  the  harvest  provided. 


44  fridthjof's  saga. 

And  swarthy-prowed  ships  to  tliis  favored  shore, 

With  snowy  pinions 
The  products  of  numberless  nations  bore, — 
A  varied  store 

Of  riches  for  fortune's  rich  minions. 

Here  freedom  and  peace  did  in  concord  dwell. 

Kindly  united; 
And  all  loved  their  father,  the  king,  full  well, 
For  each  might  tell 

His  mind  in  the  thing,* — none  were  slighted. 

Supreme  in  the  Northland  through  tliirty  years 

His  reign  extended ; 
Contented  each  went  to  his  daily  cares;  ^ 

At  evening  prayers 

The  king's  name  in  blessings  ascended. 

King  Ring  moved  his  gold-stool  back.    From  the  board 

All  there  assembled 
Arose  to  attend  on  the  royal  word, — 
Renowned  where  heard; 

But  he  sighed,  and  in  accents  that  trembled, 

*  See  t,'low8ary. 


KING    RING. 

He  said:   "My  lost  queen  is  in  Folkvaug*-liall 

On  purple  seated; 
But  here  on  her  grave  is  a  grassy  pall, 
While  breathe  o'er  all 

The  flowers  witli  sweet  odor  freighted. 

"So  queenly,  so  honored,  so  good  and  so  fair, 

There's  not  anotlier. 
Immortal  she  dwelleth  in  Vallial's  care, . 
But  the  people's  prayer. 

The  cliildren's  desire,  is  a  mother. 

"King  Bele  oft  sat  as  a  guest  at  my  side 

Wiien  winter  ended; 
The  daughter  he  left  I  would  clioose  for  my  bride. 
Her  father's  pride, 

In  whose  cheeks  rose  and  lily  are  blended. 

"I  know  she  is  young,  and  in  youth  sublime 

Would  gather  flowers; 
My  flower  is  past  and  my  early  prime; 
My  locks  has  Time 

Besprinkled  with  snowy  showers. 


46  fkiuthjof's  saga. 

Oh,  could  she  but  honor  the  withered  tree 

Which  age  has  blighted; 
And  could  she  a  friend  to  the  motherless  be, 
Then  should  you  see 

To  the  throne  Spring  by  Autumn  invited. 

"Take  gold  from  my  coffers,  take  jewels  rare, 

Unstinted  measure; 
Let  minstrels  attending  the  way  prepare 
To  win  the  fair, — 

For  song  heralds  wooing  and  pleasure." 

With  gold  and  petitions,  a  noisy  throng. 

The  young  men  speeded; 
And  minstrels  and  skalds,  in  procession  long, 
With  hero-song 

To  the  sons  of  King  Bele  proceeded. 

The  feast,  where  with  wassail  they  drink  and  sing, 

For  three  days  lasted,  [bring 

But  they  sought  the  fourth  morning  what  answer  they'd 

From  Helge  king, — 

For  now  their  return  must  be  hasted. 


KING    RING.  47 

In  the  grove  Helge  offered  both  bird  and  beast, — 

A  sacred  duty; 
Asked  counsel  of  vala,  consulted  the  priest 
What  answer  was  best 

For  the  queen  of  affection  and  beauty. 

The  offerings  and  vala  and  priest  denied 

The  wished-for  token; 
And  Helge,  affrighted  by  signs  he'd  tried, 
With  "No,"  replied. 

For  men  must  obey  when  the  gods  have  spoken. 

But  merry  king  Halfdan  laughed  gayly,  and  said, 

"The  feast  is  ended, 
King  Gray-beard  himself  should  have  come  instead, 
I'd  glad  have  led 

His  beast,  and  his  mounting  attended." 

Indignant  the  embassy  went   away, 

Nor  longer  tarried ; 
"King  Gi ay-beard  his  honor  11  avenge  one  day," 
Is  Ring  heard  to  say, 

When  to  him  the  curt  message  is  carried. 


48  fridthjof's  saga. 

He  strikes  his  bright  shield  hanging  high  on  a  bough,- 

His  weapon  seizes; 
And  many  a  dragon  is  hurrying  now, 
With  blood-red  prow, 

And  helmet  plumes  wave  in  the  breezes. 

The  tidings  flew  swiftly  to  Helge  king, 

Who  answered  slowly: 
"The  strife  will  be  bloody,  for  mighty  is  Ring; 
My  sister  bring 

To  the  temple  of  Balder,  the  holy." 

There  sitteth  the  loving  one,  full  of  woes. 

Though  safe  abiding; 
She  weeps,  while  with  silk  and  with  gold  she  sews; 
A  tear  o'erflows, — 

The  dew  'mid  the  lilies  is  hiding. 


FIUDTHJOF    PLAYS   CHESS.  49 


VI. 


FEIDTHJOF  PLAYS   CHESS. 

BJORN  and  Fridthjof  chess  were  playing 
On  a  board,  whose  squares  displaying 
Gold  and  silver  deftly  fitted, 

Skill  and  beauty  both  combined. 
Then  stepped  Hilding  in.    "Come  nigher," 
Fridthjof  said,  "and  sit  thee  higher 
'Till  our  game  shall  be  completed, — 
Foster-father  kind." 

Hilding  answered:     "From  the  palace 
I  am  come  to  you  for  solace. 
Evil  are  the  times  at  pi-esent. 
You  are  all  the  people's  hope." 
Fridthjof  said:     "The  foe  encroaches, 
Danger,  Bjorn,  your  king  approaches; 
You  can  save  him  by  a  peasant. — 
He  is  nothing,  give  him  up." 


50  fkidthjof's  saga. 

"Fridthjof,  anger  kings  no  longer, 
Lo,  the  eagle's  '  young  grow  stronger ; 
Ring  may  thwart  their  weak  endeavor, 
Thou  wilt  surely  find  it  hard." 
'^Bjorn,  I  see  you  storm  the  tower, 
All  in  vain  your  threatening  power 
'Gainst  the  castle  is;    it  ever 
Safety  seeks  behind  its  guard." 

"Ing'borg  sits  in  Balder's  dwelling, 
Grief  her  constant  tears  compelling; 

She  should  make  thee  seize  thy  armor 
She  with  tearful  eyes  of  blue." 
"Vain  you  strive  my  queen  to  capture. 
Dear  from  childhood's  days  of  rapture; 

Best  of  all,  there's  naught  shall  harm  her 
Come  what  may,  to  her  I'm  true." 

"Fridthjof,  art  thou  still  unheeding  ; 
All  thy  foster-father's  pleading? 
For  thy  foolish  game  art  ready 
I  should  go  without  a  word?" 


FRIDTHJOF    PLAYS   CHESS. 

Fridthjof  then  arises,  laying 
Hilding's  hand  in  his,  and  saying: 
"My  resolve  is  firm  and  steady. 
And  my  answer  you  have  heard. 

"Go  to  Bele's  sons  and  warn  them. 
Peasants  love  not  those  who  scorn  them ; 
To  their  power  I  bid  defiance, 
Their  behests  will  not  obey." 
"In  thy  chosen  way  abide  thee, 
For  thy  wrath  I  can  not  chide  thee; 
Odin  must  be  our  reliance," 

Hilding  said,  and  went  his  way. 


52  fridthjof's  saga. 


VII. 


FRIDTHJOFS   HAPPmESS. 

KING  Bele's  sons  may  go  requesting 
From  dale  to  dale  the  peasants'  aid, 
In  Balder's  grove  my  world  is  resting, 

For  them  I  will  not  draw  my  blade. 
Then  on  king's  vengeance  or  earth's  sadness, 

I  will  no  longer  look  or  think, 
But  only  will  the  high  gods'  gladness, 
From  out  one  cup  with  Ing'borg  drink. 

While  yet  the  hazy  sunshine  sendeth 

Its  purple  rays  on  flowers  at  rest, 
Like  rosy  gpssa<mer  which  lendeth 

An  added  charm  to  Ing'borg's  breast, 
With  sighs  along  the  strand  I  wander, 

My  soul  with  longing  all  aflame, 
Upon  the  sand  I  gaze  and  ponder 

And  with  my  sword  write  Ing'borg's  name. 


FRIDTHJOFS    HAPPINESS.  53 

How  slowly  go  the  lonesome  hours! 

Thou  Delling's  son,  why  stayest  thou  ? 
Hast  thou  not  seen  our  mountain  bowers, 

■   Our  lakes  and  islands  until  now? 
Dwells  there  in  western  halls  no  maiden 

Who  waits  since  morn  first  kissed  the  sea, 
Upon  thy  breast  her  joys  to  unladen, 

Whose  whole  of  life  is  love  and  thee? 

At  last  thy  footsteps  grow  uncertain, 
Thy  weary  journey  thou  must  close, 

Now  evening  draws  the  rosy  curtain. 
Behind  whose  folds  the  gods  repose. 

The  brooks  and  breezes  to  each  other 
In  softest  whispers  love  express; 

0 !  welcome  Night,  of  gods  the  mother. 
With  pearls  upon  thy  wedding  dress. 

The  stars  are  gliding  like  a  lover 

On  tiptoe  to  a  maiden  true; 
Ellidel  fly  the  deep  gulf   over. 

Roll  on,  roll  on,  ye  billows  blue. 


54  fridthjof's  saga. 

Yon  sacred  grove  a  temple  hideth, 
Good  Baldei-'s  temple,  doubly  dear, 

For  there  love's  goddess  safe  abideth, 
Unto  the  gods  our  course  we  steer. 

Thy  shores  I  tread  with  joyous  measure, 

I  kiss  thy  brown  cheek,  smiling  earth, 
,         And  all  ye  little  flowers,  with  treasure 

Of  white  and  red,  that  edge  my  path. 
1  hail  thee,  moon,  with  pale  light  streaming 

On  temple-grove  and  flowers  at  rest, 
How  beautiful  thou  sitfcest  dreaming 

Like  Saga  at  a  wedding  feast. 

To  speak  with  flowers,  0,  brook,  who  taught  thee 

The  feeling  in  my  heart  a  guest? 
Ye  northern  nightingales,  where  caught  ye 

The  wailing  stolen  from  my  breast? 
With  evening's  red  the  fairies  playing, 

In  clouds  my  Ing'borg's  form  disclose. 
But  Freyja,  jealousy  displaying, 

Away  the  image  quickly  blows. 


fridthjof's  happiness.  55 

Though  changing  clouds  lose  her  resemblance, 

Like  radiant  hope  herself  appears. 
As  true  as  childhood's  sweet  remembrance. 

She  comes,  my  love's  reward  she  bears. 
Come,  loved  one,  come,  and  let  me  press  thee, 

Unto  the  heart  that  holds  thee  dear, 
My  soul's  desire,  through  life  I'll  bless  thee. 

Come  to  my  arms,  and  rest  thee  here. 

Frail  as  the  lily's  stem  so  slender. 

Yet  like  spring  roses  fresh  and  fair. 
As  Freyja's  troth-plight,  warm  and  tender, 

Thou  as  the  will  of  gods  art  pure. 
Kiss  me,  and  let  my  burning  passion 

Kindle  thy  soul  to  perfect  bliss. 
Of  earth  and  heaven  I  lose  the  vision. 

Enraptured  by  thy  melting  kiss. 

Fear  not,  for  here  can  come  no  stranger. 
Without  stands  Bjorn,  his  sword  in  hand. 

His  champions  guarding  us  from  danger, 
If  need  be,  can  the  world  withstand; 


56  fkidthjof's  saga 

And  I,  if  fighting  for  my  treasure, 
Whose  form  I  on  my  bosom  bear, 

To  Valhal  now  would  go  with  pleasure, 
Could'st  thou  be  my  valkyrie  there. 

And  why  fear  Balder's  fierce  resentment, 

The  pious  god  to  whom  we  pray  ? 
He  looks  on  us  with  calm  contentment. 

For,  loving,  we  his  law  obey. 
The  god  whose  brow  with  sunshine  beameth, 

With  whom  all  truth  abideth  sure, 
His  love  unto  his  Nanna  seemeth. 

Like  mine  to  thee,  so  warm,  so  pure. 

There  stands  his  image,  not  indignant. 

But  mild  and  soft  as  sunset  ray, 
Upon  this  shrine  of  god  benignant, 

My  heart  a  sacrifice  I  lay. 
Together  let  us  kneel  before  him. 

No  better  off*ering  can  be  found 
Than  two  fond  hearts  which  both  adore  him, 

With  love  like  his  together  bound. 


FKlDTHJar'S   HAPPINESS.  57 

Scorn  not  my  love,  my  blossom  cherished, 

Which  more  to  heaven  than  earth  belongs, 
In  heaven  itself  that  love  was  nourished. 

And  for  that  glorious  home  it  longs. 
Oh!   that  my  weary  soul  releasing, 

The  gods  would  take  me  up  above; 
Triumphantly,  with  joy  unceasing, 

I'd  go,  embraced  by  my  dear  love. 

When  bugle-notes  the  champions  rally, 

From  out  the  silver  gates  they  ride; 
But  I  alone  join  not  the  sally, 

I  linger  gladly  by  thy  side. 
When  Valhal's  maidens  pass  me,  smiling, 

The  mead-horn  with  its  rim  of  gold; 
Thee,  only  thee,  my  love  beguiling, 

My  tender,  loving  arms  enfold. 

A  leafy  cottage  near  the  meadow 

I'd  build  us  by  the  dark-blue  sea, 
And  there  we'd  rest  us  'neath  the  shadow 

Of  many  a  golden-fruited  tree; 


58  FRIDTHJOFS-SAGA. 

And  when  bright  Valhal's  sun  each  morning, 
With  his  clear  torch  "in  splendor  rose, — 

We'd  hasten  to  the  gods  returning. 
Yet  longing  for  our  home's  repose. 

Thy  golden  locks,  with  sunshine  flushing, 

Wreathed  with  a  starry  crown  should  be; 
So  my  pale  lily,  rosy  blushing. 

In  Vingolf-hall  should  dance  with  me. 
Then,  by  my  love  from  danger  guarded, 

I'd  with  thee  to  our  home  repair, — 
Where  singeth  Brage,  silver-bearded, 

Our  wedding  song  each  evening  fair. 

How  sweet  the  evening  song-bird's  vesper! 

It  Cometh  forth  from  Valhal's  shore; 
How  soft  the  moon-beams'  gentle  whisper, 

From  wliere  the  dead  live  evermore! 
They  tell  of  light  and  love  unbroken, 

In  homes  devoid  of  care  and  pain; 
Where  joyous  words  alone  are  spoken. 

There  thou  my  love  shalt  ever  reign. 


nUDTHJOFS    HAPPINESS.  59 

Oh,  weep  not,  love,  those  tears  regretful, 

'      While  through  my  heart  the  life-blood  streams ; 

But  sweetly  sleep, —  of  grief  forgetful 

May  love  and  Fridthjof  fill  thy  dreams. 
Oh!   when  thine  arms  thou  foldest  round  me, 

When  thy  dear  eyes  but  look  on  me. 
How  quickly  J)reaks  the  spell  that  bound  me. 

How  turn  my  thoughts  from  heaven  to  thee! 

"  List  to  the  lark's  melodious  numbers." 
Nay,  'tis  a  dove  his  love-song  sings. 

The  lark  on  yonder  hillock  slumbers. 
Beside  his  mate  with  folded  wings. 

How  happy  they,  always  together, 

As  free  their  life  as  wings  that  bear 

Through  cheerless  storm  or  sunny  weather, 
Above  the  cloudy,  that  happy  pair. 

"See,  daybreak  comes."     Nay,  but  ascended 
From  some  far  beacon  is  the  light; 

Our  happy  talk  is  not  yet  ended, 
Nor  yet  so  soon  the  lovely  night. 


60  FKlDTHJOFfi   SAGA. 

Bright  morning  star,  sleep  till  to-morrow, 
And  when  night  cometh,  slumber  still, 

Your  waking  brings  to  Fridthjof  sorrow, — 
So  sleep  till  doomsday,  if  you  will. 

Vain  hope!     No  longer  earth  reposes, 

The  morning  breeze  new  pleasure  seeks; 

Already  bud  the  eastern  roses, 
As  fresh  as  those  on  Ing'borg's  cheeks. 

I  hear  the  winged  songsters  twitter, 

A  thoughtless  throng  in  the  opening  sky ; 

All  life's  astir,  the  wavelets  glitter. 
And  lover  must  with  shadows  fly. 

Ah!  there  he  comes,  in  glory  beaming; 

Forgive,  0  golden  sun,  my  prayer. 
How  beautiful,  in  splendor  gleaming! 

I  feel  —  I  know  a  god  is  near. 
Oh!  wlio  could,  in  thy  path  advancing, 

With  equal  grace  and  power  tread, 
All  hearts  with  light  and  joy  entrancing, 

A  life  like  thine  victorious  lead ! 


fridthjof's  happiness.  61 

Here,  'neath  thy  watchful  eye  I  leave  her — 

My  peerless  beauty  of  the  North ! 
Let  not  the  rough  world's  troubles  grieve  her, 

Thy  likeness  on  the  green-clad  earth. 
Her  soul  is  pure  as  rays  of  morning, 

Her  eyes  as  blue  as  thine  own  sky, 
The  same  rich  tints  thy  crown  adorning 

Among  her  golden  tresses  lie. 

Farewell,  my  love,  be  not  forgetful, 

Some  longer  night  again  we'll  meet; 
I,  lingering,  kiss  thy  brow,  regretful, 

One  kiss  I  give  thy  lips  so  sweet. 
Sleep  now,  beloved  ;  in  thy  slumber. 

May  dreams  of  me  thy  bosom  swell, 
At  mid-day  wake,  and  with  me  number 

Each  absent  hour;  farewell,  farewell. 


G2  fridthjof's  saga. 


VIII. 


THE   PARTING. 


INGEBORG. 


THE  day  breaks  clear,  and  Fridthjof  cometh  not, 
Thougli  yesterday  the  council  was  proclaimed 
At  Bale's  grave.     The  place  was  rightly  chosen, 
His  daughter's  fate  should  be  determined  there. 
How  many  supplications  hath  it  cost  me. 
How  many  tears  by  Freyja  counted  o'er, 
To  melt  the  ice  of  hate  around  Fridthjof's  heart. 
And  gain  a  promise  from  his  haughty  lips 
To  give  his  hand  in  reconciliation. 
Alas !  how  hard  is  man !    And  for  liis  honor. 
So  calleth  he  his  pride,  he  counts  it  not, 
Or  lightly  counts  it,  if  he  rudely  break. 
Of  true  and  faithful  hearts  one  more  or  less. 
But  wretched  woman,  leaning  on  his  breast, 
Is  like  the  moss-growth  blooming  on  the  cliff, — 
With  faded  tints,  it  difficultly  holds 
It«elf  unnoticed  fast  unto  the  rock, 


THE    PARTING.  60 

Is  only  nourished  by  the  dews  of  night. 

But  yesterday,  indeed,  my  fate  was  fixed, 

And  now  the  evening  sun  hath  set  upon  it, 

Still  Fridthjof  cometh  not.     The  pallid  stars 

Die  one  by  one,  and  sadly  disappear, 

And  with  each  one  of  them  a  hope  is  quenched 

And  goes  from  out  my  heart  unto  its  grave. 

Ah!  wherefore  still  to  hope?    Valhal's  gods 

No  longer  love  me;  I've  offended  them. 

And  Balder,  'neath  whose  shelter  I  reside, 

Is  wroth  with  me,  because  a  human  love 

Is  too  unholy  for  the  sight  of  gods. 

And  earthly  joy  must  never  risk  itself 

Beneath  the  temple-arch  in  which  the  grave. 

The  haughty  powers  have  fixed  their  dwelling-place. 

And  yet  what  fault  is  mine?  and  wherefore  frowns 

The  pious  god  upon  a  maiden's  love? 

Is  it  not  pure  as  Urd's  bright  sparkling  fount, 

And  innocent  as  Gefjon's  morning  dream? 

The  shining  sun  doth  never  turn  away 

From  loving  ones,  its  pure  and  watchful  eyes. 

And  daylight's  widow,  starry  night,  doth  hear 

With  gladness,  in  her  sorrow,  all  their  vows. 


04  fridtiijof's  saga. 

Tliat  which  is  worthy  under  heaven's  vault, 

Can  that  be  guilty  'neath  the  temple's  dome? 

I  love  my  Fridtiijof.     Oh!  through  all  the  past, 

As  far  as  memory  runs,  I  loved  him  well, — 

A  holy  feeling  twin-born  with  my  soul, 

I  know  not  whence  it  came,  nor  comprehend 

The  dismal  thought  that  it  was  ever  gone. 

As  fruit  is  timely  set  about  the  stone 

And  groweth  up,  and  round  about  it  all 

In  summer  sunshine  wraps  its  cloth  of  gold. 

So,  too,  indeed,  have  I  maturing  grown 

About  this  stone,  and  my  existence  is 

Of  my  affection  but  the  outer  shell. 

Forgive  me.  Balder!     With  a  faithful  heart 

Thy  hall  I  sought,  and  with  a  faithful  one 

Will  I  go  hence;   Til  take  it  with  me  now 

Out  over  Bifrost-bridge,  and  place  myself 

With  all  my  love  before  great  Valhal's  gods. 

And  there  my  love,  like  them  an  Asa-child, 

Shall  see  itself  reflected  in  the  shields. 

And  fly  with  loosened  dove-wings  through  the  blue 

Unending  space  unto  the  Allfather's  bosom. 

From  whence  it  came.     Oh!   wherefore  is  the  frown, 


THE    PARTING.  65 

In  morning's  twilight,  on  thy  brow  so  fair? 

There  floweth  in  my  veins,  as  flows  in  thine. 

Old  Odin's  blood.    What  wilt  thou,  kinsman  dear? 

My  ardent  love  I  cannot  offer  thee. 

Nor  would  I  offer  it,  worth  all  thy  joys ; 

But  I  can  offer  thee  my  life's  delight,— 

Can  cast  it  from  me  as  the  stately  queen 

Her  mantle  flings  aside,  and  still  remains 

Her  queenly  self     But  my  resolve  is  taken. 

And  Valhal  high   shall  never  be  ashamed 

To  own  me  kindred.     I  will  meet  my  fate 

As  meets  the  hero  his.    Ah!  here  he  comes! 

How  wild  he  seems,  how  pale !    'Tis  done,  'tis  done ! 

My  angry  norn  she  comes  beside  him  now; 

Be  strong,  my  soul!     At  last  I  welcome  thee.. 

Our  fate  is  fixed;   'tis  plain  to  read  it  where 

Upon  thy  brow  it  stands. 

FRIDTH.TOF. 

And  stand  not  there 
As  well,  the  blood-red  runes,  which  speak  of  shame, 
And  scorn  and  banishment? 


OG  fridthjof's  saga. 


INGEBORG. 


Oh,  Fridthjof,  think! 
Relate  what  passed,  for  I  have  long  foreseen 
The  worst,  and  am  prepared  for  all. 

FRIDTHJOF. 

I  found  the  council  at  our  fathers'  graves. 

Around  the  grassy  mounds,  shield  meeting  sliield. 

Stood  many  Northland  sons  with  swords  in  liand, 

One  circle  standing  close  within  another 

Unto  the  top.     Upon  the  judgment  seat, 

A  thunder  cloud,  thy  brother  Helge  sat,- 

A  pallid  headsman  with  a  dusky  look. 

And  next  to  him,  a  seeming  grown  up  child. 

Sat  Halfdan, —  thoughtless,  playing  with  his  sword. 

Then  I  arose,  and  said:     "War  waiting  stands 

Within  thy  borders,  beating  on  the  shield,^ 

Thy  kingdom  now,  king  Helge,  is  in  peril ; 

Give  me  thy  sister,  and  I'll  give  to  thee 

Mine  arm,  it  may  be  useful  in  this  strife. 

Between  us  let  ill  will  forgotten  be, — 

I  would  not  cherish  it  'gainst  Ing'borg's  brother. 


THE    PARTING.  67 

To  reason  listen,  king,  and  save  at  once 

Thy  golden  crown,  thy  purest  sister's  heart. 

Here  is  my  hand.     By  Asa-Thor,  I  swear, 

I'll  never  offer  it  again  to  thee." 

An  uproar  shook  the  thing.     A  thousand  swords 

Approval  hammered  on  a  thousand  shields. 

The  clang  of  weapons  flew  to  heaven,  which  heard 

With  joy  the  assent  of  freemen  to  the  right. 

"To  him  give  Ingeborg,  the  slender  lily, 

Most  beautiful  our  dales  have  ever  grown; 

No  better  sword  our  favored  land  can  boast, — 

To  him  give  Ingeborg/>  Our  foster-father. 

The  reverend  Hilding,  with  his  silver-beard, 

Stood  forth  and  spoke  in  words  of  wisdom  full, 

Short  apothegms,  as  keen  as  sharpened  swords. 

And  Halfdan,  too,  from  off  the  royal  seat 

Arose,  with  pleading  words  and  pleading  looks, — 

But  it  was  all  \w  vfiin  ;  each  prayer  was  wasted, — 

Like  sunshine  lavished  on  a  barren  rock, 

No  growth  alluring  from  his  stony  heart. 

King  Helge's  sullen  countenance  was  like 

His  heart, —  a  pale-faced  "No"  to  human  prayers. 

"A  peasant's  son,"  said  he,  contemptuously. 


68  fridthjof's  saga. 

•  "Could  Ing'borg  gain,  but  who  profanes  the  temple 
Ill-suited  seems  to  holy  ValhaFs'  daughter. 
Hast  thou  not,  Fridthjof,  broken  Balder's  peace? 
Hast  thou  not  seen  my  sister  in  his  temple 
When  day  had  hid  itself  from  your  communion  ? 
Say  yes,  or  no ! "     A  deafening  shout  resounded 
From  all  those  rings  of  men:     "Say  no,  say  no, 
We  take  thee  at  thy  word,  we  sue  for  thee, — 
Thou  son  of  Thorstein,  equal  to  a  king; 
Say  no,  say  no,  and  Ingeborg  is  thine!" 
*'My  life's  delight  hangs  on  a  feeble  word," 
Said  I,  "but  fear  it  not,  king  Helge! 
I  would  not  lie  myself  to  Valhal's  joy. 
Much  less  to  earth's.    Thy  sister  I  have  seen, 
Have  talked  with  her  beneath  the  temple's  night, 
But  Haider's  peace  I  have  not  therefore  broken." 
They  let  me  say  no  more.     Abhorrent  cries 
Flew  througR  the  thing,  and  those  who  nearest  stood 
Drew  back  as  from  a  pestilent  disease ; 
And  when  I  looked  around,  their    superstition 
Had  palsied  every  tongue,  and  blanched  each  cheek 
So  lately  glowing  with  expectant  joy. 
And  then  king  Helge  triumphed.     With  a  voice 


THE    PARTING.  69" 

As  sad,  as  awful  as  the  ghostly  vala*s 

In  Vegtam's  song,  wlien  she  for  Odin  sung 

Of  asas'  fate  and  grim  Hel's  victory, 

So  sad  he  spoke :  "  Though  banishment  or  death 

I  could  decree,  by  our  ancestral  laws 

Against  tliis  crime,  yet  I'll  be  mild  as  Balder, 

Whose  sacred  dwelling  thou  hast  so  profaned. 

The  western  sea  a  wreath  of  islands  holds. 

Where  Angantyr,  the  earl,  is  governor. 

As  long  as  Bele  lived  the  earl  each  year 

His  tribute  paid,  but  ceased  when  Bele  died. 

Go  o'er  the  sea  and  drive  this  tribute  in; 

This  penance  thy  audacity  demands. 

'Tis  said,"  sneered  he,  with  meanest  mockery, 

"That  Angantyr  hard-fisted  is,  and  broods 

Like  dragon  Fafner  o'er  his  gold :  but  who 

Can  stand  'gainst  our  new  Sigurd,  Fafner's  bane  ? 

Exploits  more  manly  must  thou  undertake 

Than  luring  maidens  under  Balder's  roof. 

When  summer  comes  shall  we  expect  you  here 

With  all  tliy  honor,  first  of  all  the  tribute. 

If  not,  thou  art  to  everv  man  a  felon. 


70  FRIDTHJOF  S   SAGA. 

And  during  life  art  outlawed  through  the  land." 
His  judgment  rendered,  he  dissolved  the  thing. 

INGEBORG. 

And  your  decision  ? 

FKIDTHJOF. 

Have  I  aught  to  choose  ? 
Is  not  mine  honor  bound  by  his  decree  ? 
And  that  will  I  redeem  though  Angantyr 
His  paltry  gold  doth  hide  in  Nastrand's  flood. 
To-day  will  I  depart. 

INGEBORG. 

And  Ing'borg  leave  ? 

FRIDTHJOF. 

Nay,  nay,  I  leave  thee  not,  thou  goest  too. 

INGEBORG. 

Impossible ! 

FRIDTH.TOF. 

0!  hear  me,  ere  thou  answerest. 
Thy  crafty  brother  seemeth  to  forget, 


THE    PARTING.  71 

That  Angantyr  was  my  dear  father's  friend, 

As  well  as  Bele's.     Perhaps  he'll  give 

Without  constraint  what  I  demand;  if  not 

A  worthy  advocate,  a  sharp  one  too, 

Have  I.     'Tis  always  ready  at  my  side. 

The  gold  he  covets  I'll  to  Helge  send, 

And  tlius  will  I  from  sacrificial  knife 

Of  this  crowned  hypocrite  redeem  us  both. 

But  we,  my  beauteous  Ingeborg,  will  spread 

O'er  seas  unknown  Ellide's  willing  sail, — 

She'll  kindly  bear  us  to  a  friendlier  strand 

Where  exiled  love  may  safe  asylum  find. 

What  is  the  North  to  me?     And  what  a  race. 

Which  pales  at  every  word  of  priest  or  king, 

Whose  shameless  hands  would  pluck  the  living  rose 

'From  out  the  sanctuary  of  my  heart  .^ 

So,  Freyja  help,  it  shall  not  prosper  tliem! 

The  wretched  slave  is  bound  unto  the  turf 

Where  he  was  born,  but  I  will  still  be  free, 

Free  as  the  mountain  winds.     A  little  earth 

From  Bele's  grave  and  from  my  father's  taken, 

Can  find  a  place  upon  our  ship,  and  that 

Is  all  of  fatherland  tliat  we  can  need. 


72  feidthjof's  saga. 

My  loved  one,  there  another  sun  is  found 
Than  that  which  pales  above  these  hills  of  snow, 
And  there  another  sky,  more  bright  than  this; 
And  milder  stars  with  god-like  glance  adorned. 
Look  down  therefrom  in  balmy  summer  nights 
On  lovers  wandering  in  the  laurel  groves. 
My  father,  Thorstein,  Viking's  son,  in  wars 
Had  journeyed  far,  and  oft  I've  heard  him  tell, 
By  fireside  light  in  winter  evenings  long, 
About  the  Grecian  sea  with  islands  filled, — 
Fresh  groves  of  green  in  brightly  shining  waves. 
A  powerful  race  once  had  its  dwelling  there, — 
And  holy  gods  the  marble  temples  graced. 
But  now  they  stand  deserted;   grasses  thrive 
In  paths  left  desolate,  and  fioAvers  grow 
From  out  the  runes  that  tell  of  ancient  lore ; 
The  slender  columns  stand  like  budding  trees 
Entwined  by  graceful  stems  of  southern  vines. 
Thi'oughout  the  year  the  earth  spontaneous  yields, 
In  unsown  harvests,  all  that  men  require. 
There  golden  apples  glow  between  the  leaves. 
And  blushing  grapes  from  every  bough  hang  down 
And,  ripening,  swell  luxurious  as  thy  lips. 


THE   PARTING.  73 

There,  Ing'borg,  there  we'll  build  us  near  the  wave 

A  little  North,  more  beautiful  than  this; 

And  with  our  ever  faithful  love  we'll  fill 

The  radiant  temple  vaults,  and  thus  delight 

With  human  fondness  the  forgotten  gods. 

And  when,  with  loosened  sheets  (no  storms  are  there) 

The  sailor  idly  floats  along  our  isle 

In  twilight's  glow,  and  turns  his  joyous  glance 

From  rosy-colored  ripples  to  the  strand, — 

Upon  the  temple's  threshold  shall  he  see 

A  second  Freyja,  Aphrodite  called 

In  southern  tongue,  and  he  shall  wonder  at 

The  golden  locks,  seen  flowing  in  the  breeze, 

And  eyes  which  brighter  gleam  than  southern  skies. 

And  one  by  one  around  her  groweth  up 

A  little  temple-dwelling  race  of   fairies, 

With  cheeks  where  you.  might  see  the  south  had  set, 

In  Northern  snowdrifts,  freshly  blooming  roses. 

Ah!   Ingeborg,  how  beautiful,  how  near. 

Stands  earthly  happiness  to  faithful  hearts; 

If  they  are  brave  enough  to  seize  it  when  disposed, 

It  follows  willingly,  and  builds  for  them 

A  Vingolf  even  here  beneath  the  clouds. 


74  fridthjof's  saga. 

0  come,  let's  haste  away,  each  spoken  word 
A  moment  shorter  makes  our  waiting  joy. 
Come,  alFs  prepared!   Ellide  stretches  now 
Her  shadowy  eagle  wings  for  eager  flight, — 
And  freshly  blowing  winds  now  guide  the  way 
Henceforth  from  this  inconstant  land  forever. 
Why  tarriest  thou  ? 

INGEBORG. 

I  cannot  follow  thee. 


Not  follow  me? 


FRIDTHJOF. 


INGEBORG. 


Ah!   Fridthjof,  thou  art  blest! 
Thou  followest  none,  but  always  in  the  front, — 
The  stem  of  thy  good  dragon  ship,  dost  place 
Thy  will  beside  the  helm,  to  steer  the  way 
With  steady  hand  above  the  wrathful  waves. 
How  widely  different  the  case  with  me! 
My  cruel  fate  is  held  in  other's  hands, 
Which  loosen  not  the  prey  although  it  bleed; 


THE    PARTING. 


And  sacrifice,  lament  and  lonesome  pining, 
Is  all  king  Bele's  daughter  knows  of  freedom. 


FRIDTHJOF. 

Art  thou  not  free,  if  so  thou  wiliest?     In  the  grave 
Thy  father  sits. 

INGEBORG. 

No,  Helge  is  my  father, 
Is  in  my  father's  stead;  on  his  consent 
My  hand  depends,  and  Ing'borg  will  not  steal 
Her  happiness,  however  near  it  stands. 
Ah  !  what  would  woman  be  if  she  cut  loose 
The  sacred  band  with  wliich  the  Allfather  binds 
Unto  the  stronger  power  her  gentle  being  ? 
The  water-lily  pale  resembles  her; 
It  rises  with  the  wave  and  with  it  falls, 
The  sailor's  keel  goes  forward  over  it 
And  marks  it  not  although  it  cut  the  stem. 
Such  is  indeed  her  fate!     And  yet  the  flower, 
As  long  as  clings  the  root  unto  the  sand. 
Its  growth  increases,  borrowing  color  pure 
From  its  pale  sister  stars  which  shine  above, — 
Itself  a  star  upon  the  waters  blue. 


76  fridthjof's  saga. 

But  rudely  broken  loose,  ifc  ceaseless  drives, 
A  withered  leaf  along  deserted  waves. 
Last  night, —  that  was  indeed  a  fearful  night, 
An  unrewarded  watch  I  kept  for  thee, 
^    And  children  of  the  night,  the  serious  thoughts. 
With  raven  locks  went  tlironging  closely  by 
My  ever  watchful,  burning,  tearful  eyes ; 
And  Balder,  too,  the  bloodless  god  looked  down 
On  me  with  frowning  glances  full  of  threats. 
Last  night  I  pondered  o'er  my  wretched  fate. 
My  resolution's  taken ;  I  remain 
Obedient  victim  at  my  brother's  altar. 
Yet  it  is  well  I  did  not  hear  thee  then, 
With  fabled  islands  floating  in  the  clouds 
Where  evening's  glowing  twilights  always  show 
A  flowery  world  of  peace  and  happy  love. 
Who  knows  how  weak  one  is  ?     My  childhood  dreams 
Though  silent  long,  with  joy  rise  up  again, 
And  whisper  in  my  anxious  ear  with  voice 
Familiar  as  a  sister's  kindly  tones, 
As  tender  as  a  lover's  ardent  praise. 
I  hear  ye  not!  ah,  no,  I  hear  ye  not, 
Alluring  accents  once  so  fondly  loved! 


THE    PARTING.  77 

A  child  of  Northland  cannot  elsewhere  dwell; 

Too  pale  am  I  for  those  bright  summer  roses; — 

Too  colorless  my  mind  for  that  deep  glow ; 

The  scorching  sun  would  quite  consume  me  there. 

Of  anxious  longing  full,  my  eyes  would  seek 

The  northern  star  which  always  watchful  stands 

A  heavenly  sentry  o'er  our  fathers'  graves. 

My  noble  Fridthjof  shall  not  now  desert 

The  cherished  land  that  he  was  born  to  guard; 

He  shall  not  fling  away  his  honored  name 

To  gain  so  poor  a  thing,  a  maiden's  love. 

A  life  where  spins  the  sun  from  year  to  year. 

And  where  each  day  is  ever  like  the  next  — 

A  beauteous  but  unending  sameness,  is 

For  woman  only,  but  for  manly  souls. 

And  most  for  thine,  it's  quiet,  weary  dullness. 

Thou  thrivest  best  where  storms  are  raging  round. 

On  foaming  pacers  o'er  the  heaving  sea. 

And  on  thy  tossing  plank,  come  life  or  death, 

Thou  mayest  fight  with  peril  for  thine  honor. 

The  beauteous  desert  thou  dost  paint,  would  be 

A  grave  for  high  achievements,  not  yet  born; 

And  like  thy  shield,  with  rust  would  be  dissolved, 


78  fridthjof's  saga. 

Thine  independent  mind.     It  shall  not  be! 
I  will  not  steal  away  my  Fridthjof's  name 
From  poet's  storied  song;  I  will  not  quench 
My  hero's  glory  in  its  morning  dawn. 
Be  wise,  my  Fridthjof ;  let  us  yield  unto 
The  haughty  norn ;  let  us  rescue  yet 
Our  cherished  honor  from  this  wreck  of  life; 
Our  happiness  we  cannot  save,  'tis  gone. 
And  separate  we  must! 

FKIDTHJOF. 

And  wherefore  must  ? 
Because  a  sleepless  night  disturbed  thy  mind? 

INGEBORG. 

Because  my  honor  must  be  saved,  and  thine. 

FKIDTHJOF. 

A  woman's  honor  rests  on  manly  love. 

INGEBORG. 

Not  long  loves  he  whom  he  cannot  respect. 

FKIDTHJOF. 

Respect  is  not  by  fickle  fancy  gained. 


THE    PARTING.  79 


INGEBORG.  ^    ^^_ 

OF  THE 

A  sense  of  justice  is  a  noble  fanctj-U  U'lVERSlTY 

FRIDTHJOF.  '^'^^^iFOE'Sl^- 

Our  love  strove  not  with  justice  yesterday. 

INGEBOEG. 

Nor  love  to-day,  but  all  the  more  our  flight. 

FRIDTHJOF. 

Necessity  commands  our  flight, —  Oh,  come  ! 

INGEBORG. 

What's  right  and  noble,  that's  necessity. 

FRIDTHJOF. 

High  rides  the  sun  and  time  is  fleeting  by. 

INGEBORG. 

Ah,  me,  it  has  gone  by,  gone  by  forever! 

FRIDTHJOF. 

Consider  well.     Is  that  thy  last  resolve? 

INGEBORG. 

I  have  considered  well ;  it  is  my  last. 


80  fridthjof's  saga. 

fkidthjof. 
Farewell  then,  fare  thee  well,  king  Helge's  sister. 

INGEBOEG. 

Oh,  Fridthjofl  Fridthjof!  must  we  separate  thus? 

Hast  thou  indeed  no  friendly  glance  to  give 

Thy  childhood's  friend ;  no  kindly  hand  to  reach 

To  the  unfortunate,  once  so  beloved? 

Think'st  thou  I  stand  on  roses  here,  and  turn 

Away  with  smiles  my  happiness  for  life? 

And  that  I  pangless  tear  from  out  my  breast 

A  hope  that  hath  with  my  affections  grown  ? 

Oh !   wert  thou  not  my  heart's  own  morning  dream  ? 

Each  joy  that  I  have  known  was  Fridthjof  named, 

And  all  of  life  that  great  or  noble  seemed, 

Did  Fridthjof's  likeness  take  before  mine  eyes. 

Bedim  the  image  not:   oh,  do  not  meet 

With  cruelty  the  weak  one  offering  up 

The  dearest  thing  upon  the  face  of  earth, 

The  dearest  thing  that  ValhaPs  gods  can  give! 

That'  offering,  Fridthjof,  is  severe  enough, 

And  words  of  consolation  well  deserves. 

I  know  thou  lovest  me  —  that  I  have  known 


THE   PARTING.  81 

E'er  since  my  being  first  began  to  dawn; 

And  Ing'borg's  thoughts  will  surely  follow  thee 

For  years  to  come  wherever  thou  may'st  go. 

The  clang  of  warlike  weapons  deadens  grief. 

'Tis  blown  away  upon  the  wild,  wild  waves, 

Nor  ventures  to  return  when  champions  all 

Their  victory  celebrate  with  drinking  horn. 

Yet  sometimes,  then,  when  in  the  peace  of  night, 

Thy  thoughts  review  again  forgotten  days, 

There  will  among  them  glide  an  image  pale, 

Thou  knowest  well;  it  fondly  greeteth  thee 

From  regions  dear;   it  is  the  image  of 

The  virgin  pale  in  Balder's  holy  grove. 

Thou  must  not  drive  it  thence  away,  although 

It  looketh  sorrowful,  but  whisper  kind 

Into  its  ear  a  friendly  word;  the  winds 

Of  night  on  faithful  wings  will  bear  it  me; 

One  comfort  yet,  I  have  none  else  beside. 

For  me  there's  naught  to  dissipate  my  grief; 

In  all  surrounding  me  it  hath  a  tongue; 

The  holy  temple  vaults  speak  but  of  thee; 

The  temple's  God,  which  should  all  threatening  seem, 

Thy  likeness  takes  when  shines  the  streaming  moon. 


82  fridthjof's  saga. 

Behold  the  sea  —  there  swam  thy  keel  through  foam 

To  her  who  on  the  strand  awaited  thee; 

Behold  the  woods  —  there  stand  so  many  stems 

With  Ing'borg's  runes  engraven  in  the  bark; 

Now  grows  the  bark  and  wears  away  my  name, 

And  that  betokens  death,  the  sagas  say. 

I  ask  the  day  when  last  it  saw  thy  form, 

I  ask  the  night,  but  both  are  silent  still; 

And  e'en  the  sea  which  bears  thee,  gives  reply 

But  with  a  solemn  sigh  along  the  shore. 

With  evening's  ruddy  glow  I'll  send  to  thee 

A  greeting,  when  it  sinks  into  thy  waves. 

And  heaven's  long  ship,  the  fleeting  cloud,  shall  take 

On  board  the  wail  of  the  abandoned  one. 

So  shall  I  sit  within   my  virgin  bower, 

In  mourning  clad,  of  all  life's  joy  bereft, 

And  broken  lilies  sew  into  the  cloth,  ^ 

Until  the  Spring  its  cloth  doth  weave,  and  sew 

It  full  of  better  lilies  on  my  grave. 

And  when  I  sadly  take  the  harp  to  sing 

Unending  sorrow  in  profoundest  tones. 

Then  burst  the  burning  tears  as  now  — 


THE    PARTING.  83 

FRIDTHJOF. 

Thou  conqilerest,  Bele's  daughter,  weep  no  more! 

Forgive  my  wrath,  it  was  alone  my  sorrow 

Which  for  a  moment  took  a  wrathful  dress, — 

A  wrathful  dress  it  cannot  long  endure. 

Thou  art  my  kindest  norn,  my  Ingeborg. 

A  noble  mind  best  teaches  what  is  noble. 

Necessity's  real  wisdom  cannot  have 

A  fairer,  better  advocate  than  thou. 

Thou  beauteous  vala  with  the  rosy  lips! 

I  yield  indeed  unto  necessity; 

I  part  with  thee  but  part  not  with  my  hope ; 

I'll  take  it  with  me  over  western  waves, 

I'll  take  it  with  me  to  the  gates  of  death. 

The  nearest  spring-day  sees  me  here  again ; 

King  Helge,  so  I  hope,  shall  see  me  too. 

Then  from  my  promise  freed,  his  bidding  done, 

The  calumny  against  me,  too,  atoned. 

Then  I'll  request  thee, —  nay  but  I'll  demand 

In  open  council  and  with  naked  swords, 

x\nd  not  of  Helge  but  of  Northland's  sons, 

Who  only  can  dispose  a  princess'  hand; 

I  have  a  word  for  him  who  dare  refuse. 


84  FKIDTHJOF  S   SAGA. 

Farewell  till  then ;  be  true,  forget  me  not, 
And  take,  in  memory  of  our  childhood's  love, 
My  arm-ring  here,  a  beauteous  Volund-work, 
With  heaven's  wonders  graven  in  the  gold; 
The  best  of  wonders  is  a  faithful  heart. 
How  well  it  suits  thine  arm  so  snowy-white — 
A  glow-worm  coiled  around  the  lily's  stem! 
Farewell,  my  bride,  my  loved  one,  fare  thee  well. 
Ere  many  moons  our  mournful  lot  will  change. 

[He  goes.] 

INGEBORG. 

How  glad,  how  trusting,  and  of  hope  how  full! 
He  sets  the  glittering  point  of  his  good  sword 
Against  the  norns,  and  says:   "Ye  must  retreat!" 
Thou  wretched  Fridthjof,  the  norns  will  ne'er  retreat; 
They  go  their  way  and  laugh  at  Angervadil. 
How  little  knowest  thou  my  gloomy  brother. 
Thy  brave,  heroic  temper  fathoms  not 
The  awful  depths  of  his,  nor  understands 
The  hate  that  in  his  envious  bosom  burns. 
His  sistei-'s  hand  he'll  never  give  to  thee; 
He'd  sooner  give  his  crown,  pour  out  his  life, 
Of  me  an  offering  make  to  Odin  old. 


THE    PARTING. 

Or  to  old  Ring,  whom  now  he  fights  against. 
Wherever  I  may  look,  no  hope  is  found, — 
Yet  am  I  glad  hope  lives  within  thy  breast. 
In  secret  will  I  keep  my  poor  heart's  wound. 
And  pray  that  all  the  good  gods  follow  thee. 
Here  on  thine  arm-ring  can  I  reckon  up 
Each  separate  month  of  all  this  lonesome  sorrow. 
In  two,  four,  six, —  then  can'st  thou  come  again, 
But  can'st  not  find  again^ thine  Ingeborg. 


86  fridthjof's  saga. 


IX. 


IJSTGEBORG'S  LAMENT. 

AUTUMN  has  come; 
Storming  now  heaveth  the  deep  sea  with  foam, 
Yet  would  I  gratefully  lie  there, 
Willingly  die  there. 

Long  gleamed  his  sail, 

Flying  to  westward  before  the  fierce  gale; 

Fortunate,  Fridthjof  to  follow 

O'er  the  wild  billow. 

• 

Swell  not  so  high. 

Billows  of  blue  with  your  deafening  cry! 
Stars  lend  assistance,  a  shining 
Pathway  defining. 

With  the  spring  doves 

Fridthjof  will  come,  but  the  maiden  he  loves 
Cannot  in  hall  or  dell  meet  him, 
Lovingly  greet  him. 


ingeboug's  lament.  87 

Buried  she  sleeps, 

Dead  for  her  love's  sake,  or  bleeding  she  weeps, 

Heart-broken,  given  by  her  brother 

Unto  another. 

Falcon  he  left, 

Mine  shalt  thou  be,  winged  hunter  bereft; 
I  for  thy  owner  will  heed  thee, 
Lovingly  feed  thee. 

Here  on  his  hand, 

'Broidering  I'll  picture  thee  on  the  cloth's  rand. 

Silvery  pinions  I'll  give  thee. 

Golden  claws  weave  thee. 

Once,  it  is  said, 

Freyja  with  falcon-wings  north  and  south  sped, 

Seeking  for  Oder,  her  lover. 

All  the  world  over. 

Vainly  I  seek 

Wings  of  the  falcon,  for  mortals  too  weak. 

Only  in  passing  death's  portal 

Soareth  a  mortal. 


88  FRIDTHJOFS   SAGA. 

Sit  here  with  me, 

Beautiful  hunter  and  look  at  the  sea; — 
Longing  and  looking  forever 
Bringeth  him  never. 

Dead  shall  I  be, 

When  Fridthjof  comes  again  over  the  sea; 

Bear  thou  my  love  for  his  weeping, 

I  shall  be  sleeping. 


FRIDTHJOF    AT   SEA.  89 


X. 


FKIDTHJOF  AT  SEA. 

ON  shore  king  Helge  stood, 
By  turns  he  sang  and  prayed, 
And  in  embittered  mood 
Besought  the  goblins'  aid. 

Seel  the  heavens  with  darkness  toiling, 

Empty  space  with  thunders  bcTom, 
Lo,  the  furious  waves  are  boiling, 

Ocean's  surface  hid  with  foam. 
Lightnings  now  the  clouds  are  streaking. 

Here  and  there  a  bloody  rand, 
All  the  sea-fowls  now  are  shrieking, 

Hasting  to  the  safer  strand. 

"  Hard's  the  weather,  brothers ! 
Hear  the  stormy  pinions 
Flapping  in  the  distance, 
Yet  we  do  not  pale. 

8 


90  fbidthjof's  saga. 

Sit  within  the  temple, 
Think  on  me  with  longing, 
Beauteous  in  thy  weeping. 
Beauteous  Ingeborg."     • 


'Gainst  Ellide's  stem. 

Two  goblins  warfare  made. 

One  was  wind-cold  Ham, 
One  was  snowy  Heyd. 

Now  the  storm-wind  wildly  drifts  them 

O'er  the  deep,  and  madly  down; 
Now  it  beating,  whirling  lifts  them. 

Upward  where  the  heavens  frown. 
All  the  powers  of  evil  coming, 

Eiding  on  the   billows'  top, 
From  the  bottomless,  the  foaming, 

From  the  wide  graves  up. 

"  Brighter  was  the  journey 
By  the  pale  moon's  glimmer, 
Over  mirrored  waters 
Unto  Balder's  grove; 


FRIDTHJOF   AT  SEA.  91 

Warmer  was  it,  nearer 
Ing'borg's  heart  reposing; 
Whiter  than  the  sea-foam 
Swelled  her  bosom  fair." 


Solund  island  fair 

Above  the  waves  so  white! 
Stiller  seas  are  there,     , 

Harbors  safe  invite. 

But  the  bold  sea-rover  feareth 

Less  upon  the  trusted  oak, 
Mans  the  helm  himself,  and  jeereth 

At  the  wild  wind's  sportive  stroke. 
Tighter  now  the  sail  he  fastens, 

Fleeter  o'er  the  water  skims, 
Straight  to  westward  fearless  hastens. 

Goes  where'er  the  billow  swims. 

'^Fighting  for  a  moment 
With  the  storm  delighteth; 
Storm  and  Northman  prosper 
Well  upon  the  wave. 


92  fridthjof's  saga. 

Ingeborg  would  redden 
Should  her  sea-eagle  fly  with 
Slackened  wings,  afl'righted 
By  a  passing  breeze." 


Higher  rise  the  waves, 

Deeper  furrows  plow, 
Cordage  madly  raves, 

Creak  both  keel  and  prow. 

Waves  whichever  way  contending, 

With  or  'gainst  Ellide's  form. 
Meet  good  timbered  sides,  defending 

Menaced  ship,  defying  storm. 
Like  an  evening  meteor  sweeping. 

Joyful  glides  she  through  the  night, 
Like  an  Alpine  roebuck  leaping 

Over  precipice  and  height. 

"Better  was  it  kissing 
Her  in  Balder's  temple. 
Than  to  stand  here  tasting 
Salt-foam  as  it  whirls. 


FRIDTHJOF   AT   SEA.  93 

Better  'twas  embracing 
Bele's  royal  daughter 
Than  to  stand  here  gripping 
Fast  the  rudder's  helm. 


From  the  cold  sky's  field 

Snows  intense  prevail, 
And  on  deck  and  shield 

Rattling  storms  of  hail. 

Lo,  o'er  all  the  vessel  flying 

Night  has  placed  her  sable  pall, 
As  in  rooms  where  dead  are  lying, 

(rloomy  darkness  covers  all. 
Wave  implacable   now  lashes 

Toward  his  doom  the  sailor  brave 
White-gray  as  with  sifted  ashes 

Frightful  yawns  a  boundless  grave. 

"Pillows  Ran  is  making, 
Luring  us  to  quiet; 
Thine  I  know  are  waiting, 
Ingeborg,  for  me. 


94  fridthjof's  saga. 

Faithful  men  are  plying 
Oars  of  good  Ellide; 
Gods  the  keel  have  made  us, 
Bear  us  yet  awhile." 


See  the  sea  advance, 

Seeking  now  a  wreck, 
Ere  the  eye  can  glance. 

Clears  the  starboard  deck. 

Fridthjof's  sinewy  arm  adorning, 

Shone  a  massive  golden  ring, 
Bright  as  rays  of  early  morning, 

'Twas  the  gift  of  Bele,  king. 
This  in  many  pieces  broken, — 

Made  by  dwarfs  with  skillful  art, 
Gives  to  all  on  board  a  token. 

Every  man  receives  a  part. 

"Gold  is  good  to  carry 
When  you  go  a-wooing, 
Empty-handed  no  one 
Comes  to  sea-blue  Ran. 


FRIDTHJOF   AT   SEA.  95 

Cold  is  she  to  kisses, 
Fleetli  from  embraces, 
But  the  sea-bride  yieldeth 
Met  with  shining  gold." 

Now  with  threatenings  new 

Falls  the  frozen  storm, 
Rends  his  sail  in  two. 

Snaps  the  brittle  arm. 

O'er  Ellide's  side  prevailing 

Entering  rolls  the  mountain  wave, 
Men  of  giant  strength  are  baling, 

'Gainst  the  sea  make  battle  brave. 
Fridthjof  cannot  fail  discerning 

That  he  carries  death  on  board; 
Then  above  the  billows  storming 

Rises  his  commanding  word. 

"Bjorn,  attend  the  rudder, 
Grip  it  with  a  bear's  paw; 
Valhal's  holy  powers 
Never  sent  such  storm. 


96  fridthjof's  saga. 

Goblins  rule  the  voyage ; 
Coward  Helge  chanted 
Safety  o'er  the  waters; 
I  will  up  and  see." 

Like  a  bird  he  flew 

Up  the  icy  spar, 
Sat  on  high  to  view 

Fiendish  goblins  war. 

See,  before  Ellide  gliding. 

Like  an  island  floating  free, 

Sea-whale  on  whose  back  are  riding. 
Loathsome  goblins  of  the  sea. 

Heyd  a  snowy  pelt  doth  cover. 
Figure  like  a  polar  bear; 

Ham  hath  wings  which,  waving    hover 
.r^'^^^      Eagle-like  in  stormy  air. 

"Now,  Ellide,  ready! 
Show  if  hero  temper 
Dwells  within  your  banded 
Convex  breast  of  oak. 


FRIDTHJOF  AT  SEA.  97 

Listen  to  my  order; 
Are  you  Valhal's  daughter? 
Strike  with  keel  of  copper, 
Gore  the  conjured  whale!" 


Brave  Ellide  hears 

Fridthjof  s  proud  behest. 

With  a  spring  she  rears 

'Gainst  the  monster's  breast. 

From  the  wound  a  stream  is  driving, 

To  the  skies  'tis  quickly  sped, 
Now  the  wounded  monster  diving. 

Roaring  seeks  his  miry  bed. 
Fridthjof  s  giant  strength  then  casteth 

Lances  at  the  goblins  bold, 
One  in  Ice-bear's  bosom  fasteneth. 

One  Storm-eagle's  breast  doth  hold. 

"Bravely  done,  Ellide! 
Not  so  quickly  riseth 
Helge's  magic  dragon 
Up  from  out  the  mire 


FRIDTHJOF  S   SAGA. 

Ham  and  Heyd  no  longer 
Rule  the  sea  together; 
Bitter  is  it  biting 
'Gainst  the  dark-blue  steel." 


Quickly  disappears 

Storm  from  sea  and  land, 
Gentle  wavelet  steers 

Toward  the  nearing  strand. 

All  at  once  the  sun  advances, 

Like  a  king  doth  he  unveil, 
All  enlivens,  all  entrances, 

Ship  and  billow,  mount  and  dale. 
Last  rays,  gleaming  now  like  amber. 

Tops  of  clifiF  and  forest  bound. 
Now  each  sailor  well  remembers 

The  emerald  shores  of  Efje  Sound. 

"Ingeborg,  pale  maiden. 
Prayers  sent  unto  Valhal; 
Lily-white  she  bowed  her 
Knees  on  sacred  gold^ 


FRIDTHJOF    AT    SEA. 

Light-blue  eyes  in  weeping, 
Breast  of  swan's  down,  sighing, 
Moved  the  hearts  of  asas; 


Let  us  give  them  thanks. 


Now  Ellide  leaks, 

Faithful  dragon  ship. 
Shallow  water  seeks, — 

Wearied  of  the  trip. 

Still  more  tired  by  labor  dreary, 

Fridthjof's  men  desire  the  land; 
But  enfeebled,  faint  and  weary. 

Sword-supported,  scarce  can  stand. 
Bjorn,  on  powerful  shoulders,  beareth 

Four  of  them  and  safely  lands; 
Fridthjof,  too,  the   labor  shareth, 

Eight  sets  round  the  burning  brands. 

"Do  not  blush,  pale  heroes! 
Waves  are  sturdy  vikings; 
Hard  indeed  is  fighting 
'Gainst  the  ocean's  bride. 


100  fkidthjof's  saga. 

See,  there  comes  the  mead-horn, 
Gold  the  feet  that  bear  it, 
Warm  your  frozen  members; 
Skoal  to  Ingeborg! 


FKIDTIIJOF    WITH    ANGANTYR.  101 


XL 


FRIDTHJOF  WITH  ANGANTYE. 

'rpiS  now  to  tell  the  story 
A     How  in  his  fir-wood  hall, 
Sat  Angantyr,  the  hoary, 

And  drank  with  champions  all. 
He,  joyous  and  light-hearted, 

Looked  out  to  where  the  sun 
Behind  the  waves  departed. 

Just  like  a  golden  swan. 

Outside  the  hall's  commotion 

Old  Halvard  watched, —  indeed 
Not  only  watched  the  ocean. 

But  also  watched  his  mead. 
His  custom,  seldom  broken. 

Was,  quick  the  horn  to  drain, 
And  ere  a  word  was  spoken, 

To  thrust  it  in  again. 


102  fridthjof's  saga. 

But  now  he  threw  it;   striding 

Into  the  hall  he  spake : 
"I  see  the  billows  riding 

A'  ship,  whose  timbers  shake  ; 
I  see  some  sailors  dying 

Already  on  the  strand, 
And  two  strong  giants,  trying 

To  bring  the  rest  to  land." 

O'er  waves  no  longer  foaming. 

The  noble  earl  looked  out: 
''That  is  Ellide  coming. 

And  Fridthjof  too,  no  doubt; 
His  step,  so  firm  and  steady. 

Bespeaks  him  Thorstein's  son 
Such  brow,  and  smile  so  ready. 

In  Northland  there  is  none." 

Then  viking  Atle  sturdy 

Sprang  up  at  one  swift  bound; 

Black-bearded  berserk,  bloody. 
And  fiercely  looked  around. 


FRIDTHJOf    WITH    ANGANTYR.  103 

"Now,  I  will  prove,"  he  thunders, 

"What  rumor  means  by  this, 
That  all  blades  Fridthjof  sunders. 

And  never  sues  for  peace." 

And  with  the  doughty  viking, 

His  twelve  best  champions  start, 
And  in  the  air  sharp  striking. 

They  brandish  sword  and  dart. 
They  storm  the  strand,  where  by  it 

The  weary  dragon  lay; 
But  Fridthjof,  sitting  nigh  it. 

Looks  ready  for  the  fray. 

"  Quite  easy  could  I  fell  thee," 

The  noisy  Atle  cries; 
"No  one  comes  here,  I  tell  thee. 

But  either  fights  or  flies. 
If  peace  thou  ask'st,  believe  me, — 

I  fight,  but  am  no  churl, — 
In  friendship  I'll  receive  thee, 

And  lead  thee  to  the  earl." 


104  fkidthjof's  saga. 

"Although  I'm  scarcely  rested," 

Is  Fridthjofs  sharp  reply, 
"  Our  good  swords  must  be  tested, 

Before^ for  peace  I  cry/' 
Then  swift  the  sun-brown  fighter 

His  flashing  sword-blade  swung, 
Bright  glowed  the  runes  and  brighter 

On  Angervadil's  tongue. 


K 


Blows  fell  without  cessation, 
•     Now  deadly  blows  like  rain, 
And  now  in  quick  rotation 

Each  shield  is  cleft  in  twain. 
Unhurt,  with  wrath  unspoken 

They  stand  within  the  ring, — 
Now  Atle's  sword  is  broken 

And  Fridthjofs  sword  is  king. 

Said  he:  "A  swordless  foeman 

I've  no  desire  to  slay; 
But  if  you  will,  as  yeomen, 

We'll  try  another  way." 


FRIDTHJOF   WITH    ANGANTYR.  105 

As  waves  'gainst  waves  are  pushing, 

And' breaking  crest  on  crest, 
So  on  each  other  rushing, 

They  wrestled  breast  to  breast. 

They  fought  like  two  bears  trying 

Their  strength  on  crust  of  snow. 
Or,  as  o'er  mad  waves  flying 

The  eagle  meets  his  foe. 
The  firm  earth  trembled  round  them, 

Though  based  on  solid  rock. 
And  oaks,  though  strong  roots  bound  them. 

Could  scarce  withstand  the  shock. 

Their  brows  with  sweat  were  beaded. 

Their  breasts  heaved  with  a  sound. 
The  brush  and  stones  unheeded, 

They  scattered  all  around. 
The  twelve  in  expectation 

Stood  quaking  on  the  sand ; 
Eenowned  through  every  nation 

That  struggle  on  the  strand,   y/ 


106  fridthjof's  saga. 

But  Fridthjof  was  the  stronger, 

He  felled  his  foe  at  last, 
And  said  with  fiery  anger. 

His  knee  on  Atle's  breast: 
"Had  I  my  good  sword  ready. 

Thou  berserk  blackbeard,  now 
Thy  miserable  body 

I'd  straightway  plunge  it  through." 

"Go  bring  it!    Who'll  prevent  thee?" 

Is  generous  Atle's  cry, 
"And  if  it  will  content  thee, 

As  now  I'll  quiet  lie. 
Why  should  it  make  me  sorrow? 

For  all  must  Valhal  see; 
I  go  to-day  —  to-morrow 

Perhaps  thy  turn  will  be." 

Then  Fridthjof  quick  returning. 
Desired  to  end  the  fray; 

Raised  Angervadil  burning, — 
But  Atle  quiet  lay. 


FRIDTHJOF   WITH    ANGANTYE.  107 

The  falling  blade  ne'er  harmed  him, 
For  Fridthjof  struck  the  sand; 

Such  courage  had  disarmed  him, 
He  took  brave  Atle's  hand. 

With  gleeful  admonition 

Old  Halvard  swung  his  staff: 
"  For  your  ,battle-meal  potation 

There's  nothing  here  to  quaff; 
Upon  the  board  hot-smoking 

The  silver  dishes  glow; 
A  cold  meal  is  provoking, 

And  thirst  annoys  me  so." 

Appeased,  with  friendly  feeling, 

The  portals  they  pass  through, 
And  here  from  floor  to  ceiling, 

To  Fridthjof  all  was  new. 
Rough  planks  well  matched  together 

Lined  not  the  spacious  hall, 
But  'broidered  golden  leather 

Was  stretched  along  the  wall. 


108  fridtujof's  saga. 

The  center  was  not  littered 

By  mortared  hearthstone  wide; 
A  marble  fireplace  glittered, 

Built  up  against  the  side. 
No  smoke  'mid  rafters  flitted, 

No  roof  with  soot  spread  o'er; 
Glass  panes  the  windows  fitted, 

A  lock  secured  the  door. 

No  wooden  torches  crackling, 

Illumed  the  champions'  feast. 
But  waxen  candles,  sparkling. 

In  silver  sconces  placed. 
A  roasted  stag,  well  larded, 

The  table's  center  graced; 
Gold  bands  his  raised  hoof  guarded. 

With  flowers  his  horns  were  dressed. 

Beside  each  champion  sitting, 
A  youthful  maiden  stood, — 

An  evening  star,  bright  flitting. 
Behind  a  stormy  cloud 


,  FREDTHJOF    WITH   ANGANTYR.  109 

The  blue  eyes  beamed,  in  showers 

The  gold-brown  tresses  flowed, 
Complete  as  sculptured  flowers 

The  little  rose-lips  glowed. 

On  silver  stool,  high  mounted, 

Sat  Angantyr,  the  old; 
His  helm  shot  rays  uncounted. 

His  corselet  was  of  gold. 
His  mantle,  rich  and  splendid, 

With  golden  stars  was  strewn, — 
And  where  the  purple  ended, 

The  spotless  ermine  shone. 

Three  steps  the  earl  descended; 

To  Fridthjof  genially 
He  said,  with  hand  extended: 

"Come  higher,  sit  by  me. 
Of  horns  I've  emptied  many 

With  Thorstein  in  his  day; 
His  son,  more  famed  than  any, 

Shall  not  sit  far  away." 


no  fridthjof's  saga. 

He  filled  each  goblet  brimming 

With  wine  from  Sicily, — 
Like  sparks  of  fire  'twas  gleaming, 

And  foaming  like  the  sea. 
"  Welcome !  "  exclaimed  the  speaker, 

"My  friend's  most  worthy  son! 
To  Thorstein  fill  a  beaker, — 

And  drink  now,  every  one!" 

Now  woke  the  harpstring's   slumbers, 

A  skald  from  Morven's  hills, 
In  GauFs  melodious  numbers, 

Sad  hero-songs  he  trills. 
But  Thorstein's  praise  was  chanted 

In  old  Norwayan  tongue; 
His   noble  deeds  were  vaunted, 

His  daring  valor  sung. 

The  earl  asked  much  concerning 
His  friends  of  days  gone  by; 

In  words  replete  with  learning 
Young  Fridthjof  made  reply. 


^. 


FRIDTHJOF    WITH    ANGANTYfi.  Ul 

A  judgment  given  blindly, 

Swift  accusation  brings, 
He  spoke  like  Saga,  kindly. 

Remembering  holy  things. 

And  when  he  there  recounted 

How  Helge  goblins  sent. 
Which  first  the  blue  waves  mounted. 

Then,  conquered,  downward  went. 
The  champions  cheered  him  loudly, 

And  Angantyr  the  same, — 
In  high  approval,  proudly. 

They  echoed  Fridthjof  s  name. 

But  when  he  spoke  in  anguish. 

Of  Ing'borg  in  her  bloom, 
How  she  was  left  to  languish. 

Her  heart  with  grief  overcome, — 
Each  maiden's  cheek  was  burning. 

Each  bosom  sore  distressed; 
And  to  her  lover  turning. 

His  faithful  hand  she  pressed. 


112  fridthjof's  saga. 

His  embassy  to  mention 

He  ventured  by  and  by; 
The  earl  gave  pleased  attention, 

And  then  he  made  reply: 
"  I  ne'er  was  tributary ; 

King  Bele's  health,  maybe. 
To  drink  was  customary, 

But  from  his  law  we're  free. 

"  His  sons,  I  do  not  know  them ; 

If  tribute  they  demand. 
Custom  the  way  will  show  them. 

We'll  meet  them  on  the  strand. 
And  see  who  best  is  reckoned; 

But  Thorstein  was  my  friend." 
His  daughter  then  he  beckoned, 

Who  sat  quite  near  at  hand. 

Then  rose  the  maiden  tender. 
From  stool  all  golden  bound. 

Her  waist  is  trim  and  slender, 
Her  bosom  full  and  round. 


FRIDTHJOF    WITH   AX^ANTYR.  11^ 

Each  dimpled  cheek  encloses 

An  Astrild,  roguish  sprite, 
As  when  on  opening  roses, 

The  butterflies  alight. 

She  hastened  to  her  bower, 

A  green  silk  purse  she  brought, 
With  bird  and  tree  and  flower 

And  beast  'twas  deftly  wrought; 
On  seas  were  white-winged  vessels, 

Beneath  the  silver  moon. 
Of  gold  were  all  the  tassels. 

The  clasp  with  rubies  shone. 

She  placed  the  dainty  treasure 

Within  her  father's  hand; 
He  filled  it,  brimming  measure, 

With  coin  from  foreign  land. 
"This  welcome  gift  is  only 

A  tribute  to  a  friend; 
And  now  the  winter  lonely 

Consent  with  us  to  spend. 


114  fi^dthjof's  saga. 

True  courage  knows  no  danger, 

But  Heyd  and  Ham,  I  fear. 
Revived  await  the  ranger, 

And  winter  storms  are  here. 
All  foes  the  deep  is  hiding, 

Ellide  may  not  shun. 
And  many  whales  are  riding 

The  waves,  though*  conquered  one.' 

With  jesting  and  potation 

The  hours  till  day  were  spent, 
Without  inebriation 

The  wine-cup  gladness  lent. 
A  brimming  skoal  was  given 

To  Angantyr  at  last; 
So  Fridthjof  in  this  haven 

The  cheerful  winter  passed. 


THE   RETURN*  115 


XII. 


THE  EETURN. 

"VTOW  spring  is  breathing  in  skies  of  blue, 
-^^   And  earth  her  carpet  has  wove  anew, 
And  Fridthjof  grateful  his  kind  host  leaving 
Again  the  billowy  plain  is  cleaving. 
And  gayly  speeding  through  silver-spray. 
His  black  swan  ploweth  her  sunny  way. 
The  western  breezes  that  spring  is  bringing, 
Like  nightingales-  in  the  sails  are  singing. 
And  ^ger's  daughters  in  veils  of  blue 
About  the  rudder  their  sports  pursue. 
Ah,  how  delightful  when  safely  clearing 
A  foreign  land,  to  be  homeward  steering! 
When  memory  pictures  the  smoke  that  curled 
Above  one's  hearthstone,  his  childhood's  world. 
The  fount  where  playing  his  swift  feet  hurried, 
The  honored  graves  where  his  dead  are  buried. 
He  thinks  of  her  who  perchance  may  be 
On  high  cliffs  standing  to  watch  the  sea. 


ik; 


Six  days  he  sailed  on  his  way  returning, 
The  seventh  a  strip  of  blue  discerning 
Low  down  the  horizon,  he  neared  it  fast, 
Saw  rock  and  islet  and  land  at  last. 
That  land  is  his ;  from  the  waves  advancing, 
He  sees  green  forests  in  sunlight  dancing. 
He  hears  the  roar  of  the  foaming  streams, 
Can  trace  each  cliff  which  with  granite  gleams. 
Salutes  the  headland  and  sound,  then  glideth 
Along  by  the  groves  where  his  Ing'borg  bideth. 
Thinks  how  last  summer  each  evening  fair, 
With  her  beside  him  he  wandered  there. 
"Where  is  she?     Guesses  she  not  her  lover 
Is  near  her,  safely  the  blue  waves  over? 
Perhaps,  removed  from  her  Balder's  care, 
She  strikes  the  harp  in  the  palace,  where 
Her  grief  she'd  lessen,  her  needle  plying." 

Then  sudden  rises  his  falcon,  flying 
From  temple  turret,  then  downward  flits 
Tq  Fridthjof's  shoulder,  and  there  he  sits. 
As  was  his  wont,  of  his  love  to  assure  him. 
From  Fridthjofs  shoulder  can  none  allure  him, 


THE   RETURK.  117 

He  scratches  fast  with  his  gold-tipped  claws, 
He  gives  no  quiet,  he  makes  no  pause. 
To  Fridthjof  s  .ear  now  his  beak  he  bendeth, 
Perchance  some  loved  one  a  message  sendeth ; 
Is  it  Ingeborg?     Wildly  his  pulses  bound, 
But  none  interprets  the  broken  sound. 

Ellide  gayly  the  headland  rounding. 

Skips  lightly  on,  like  a  roebuck  bounding. 

Familiar  waters  surround  the  prow 

Where  happy  Fridthjof  is  standing  now. 

He  rubs  his  eyes  and  his  hand  he  places 

Above  his  brow  to  discern  the  traces 

Of  home  so  dear;  but  he  looks  in  vain, — 

Of  Framness  ashes  alone  remain. 

The  naked  chimney  stands  lone  and  dreary, 

Like  warriors'  bones  of  their  grave-mounds  weary; 

The  garden  place  is  a  blackened  floor, 

The  ashes  whirl  round  the  wasted  shore. 

In  bitter  mood  from  his  ship  he  hasteth, 

Around  the  ruins  his  eyes  he  casteth. 

His  father's  dwelling,  his  childhood's  pride. 

Then  faithful  Bran,  with  the  shaggy  hide, 


118  fridthjof's  saga. 

Comes  running  toward  him,  each  moment  faster, — 
Of  forest  bears  had  he  oft  been  master; 
How  high  he  springs  in  his  ghidsome  glee, 
How  leaps  with  pleasure  his  friend  to  see. 
The  milk-white  steed  he  so  oft  had  ridden 
Comes  bounding  up  from  the  valley  hidden, 
With  swan-like  neck  and  the  frame  of  a  hind 
And  gold  mane  floating  upon  the  wind. 
He  curves  his  neck  and  h6  stamps  while  standing, 
His  food  from  Fridthjof 's  own  hand  demanding ; 
But  Fridthjof,  poorer  by  far  than   they, 
Has  nought  to  give  them, —  he  turns  away. 

•     Unsheltered,  sorrowful  stands  the  rover; 

He  looks  at  the  meadow  and  grove  burnt  over, — 

Of  Hilding's  coming  quite  unaware. 

His  foster-father  with  silver  hair. 

"At  what  I  see  I  can  scarcely  wonder. 

When  eagles  flit  then  their  nests  are  plunder. 

'Tis  Helge's  deed  lest  the  land  be  wroth. 

So  well  he  keeps  his  crowning  oath! 

To  hate  mankind  and  to  gods  be  loyal, 

While  blackened  homes  mark  his  progress  royal! 


THE    RETURN.  119 

More  grief  it  gives  me  and  less  of  pain; 

But  where  does  my  Ingeborg  meanwhile  remain  ?  " 

"  The  word  I  bear,"  Hilding  said  in  sadness, 

"I  fear  will  bring  you  but  little  gladness. 

You  scarce  had  sailed  when  king  Ring  came  on, 

Five  shields  I  counted  against  our  one. 

In  Disar-dale  did  we  prove  our-  valor, — 

The  river  foamed  with  a  crimson  color. 

King  Halfdan's  jest  and  his  laugh  arose, 

So  too  the  sound  of  his  manly  blows.      C 

My  shield  I  held  as  a  buckler  o'er  him. 

Well  pleased  with  fruits  his  bravery  bore  him. 

Not  long  indeed  did  the  battle,  last. 

King  Helge  yielded,  and  flying  fast. 

Though  asa-blood  in  his  veins  was  welling, 

In  passing  Framness  he  fired  the  dwelling. 

Before  the  brothers  the  choice  was  placed. 

To  give  their  sister  to  Ring,  disgraced, 

(By  her  alone  could  his  wrongs  be  righted), 

Or  give  their  throne  for  his  offer  slighted. 

Then  hither  and  thither  the  messengers  hied, 

But  now  has  Ring  carried  home  his  bride." 


120  fridthjof's  saga. 

"0   woman,  woman!"  said  Fridthjof,  scorning, 

"Old  Loke's  thought  should  have  been  a  warning; 

His  thought  a  lie,  was  in  woman's  form, 

To  man  he  sent  it  his  heart  to  warm, 

A  blue-eyed  lie  that  with  tears  alarms  us, 

Forever  cheats  and  forever  charms  us ; 

A  rose-cheeked  lie  with  bust  defined, 

Of  spring-ice  virtue  and  faith  like  wind; 

From  out  whose  heart  folly  often  glances, 

On  whose  fresh  lips  basest  falsehood  dances. 

And  yet  how  dear  to  my  heart  was  she! 

And  dear  as  ever  she  still  must  be. 

My  wife  I've  called  her  since  in  the  wildwood. 

We  played  together  in  happy  childhood. 

Of  high  achievement  if  e'er  I  thought. 

Her  love  alone  was  the  prize  I  sought; 

As  stems  which  grow  from  one  root  together, 

If  Thor  strikes  one  then  thej  both  will  wither; 

If  one  its  vesture  of  emerald  shows, 

The  other  mantles  with  green  its  boughs. 

Our  lives  in  joy  and  in  grief  thus  blended, 

I  cannot  think  of  the  union  ended. 

But  I'm  alone.     0,  thou  noble  Var 


THE   RETURN.        '  121 

"Who  wanderest  over  the  earth  afar, 

To  record  on  gold  every  vow  that's  spoken, 

Forego  thy  pastime,  the  vows  are  broken. 

The  tablet  filled  with  but  falsest  lies, 

The  faithful  gold  'gainst  the  insult  cries. 

Of  Balder's  Nanna  Fve  oft  been  dreaming. 

But  truth  in  mortals  is  only  seeming. 

In  faithfulness  can  no  heart  rejoice 

Since  falsehood  borrows  my  Ingeborg's  voice, — 

A  voice  like  wind  which  o'er  fl.ower  fields  strayeth 

Or  harp-strings'  music  when  Brage  playeth. 

I'll  list  no  more  when  the  harp  is  tried, 

I  will  not  think  of  my  faithless  bride; 

Where  storms  are  raging  there  will  I  follow. 

Till  blood  thou  drinkest,  thou  ocean  billow. 

Where  swords  sow  seeds  for  pale  death  to  reap, 

On  mount  or  vale  I  my  vigil  keep. 

If  king  I  meet  and  to  combat  dare  him 

I  smile  to  think  how  my  sword  shall  spare  him. 

But  if  in  battle  a  youth  I  meet, 

With  heart  enamored  and  visions  sweet. 

Deluded  fool  who  on  faith  relieth, 

I'll  hew  him  down  e'er  the  vision  flveth. 


122  FRlDTHJOr'S   SAGA. 

Will  kindly  slay  him  ere  yet  he  be 
Deceived,  disgraced  and  betrayed  like  me." 

"The  blood  that's  youthful  no  boundaries  heedeth,' 

Old  Hilding  said,  "how  much  it  needeth 

The  cooling  touch  of  the  snows  of  age. 

You  wrong  the  maid  with  your  senseless  rage. 

My  foster-daughter  beware  of  blaming 

For  adverse  fortune  which,  heaven  ordaining, 

The  wrathful  norns  upon  men  below 

Hurl  down,  for  none  can  escape  the  blow. 

Like  silent  Vidar,  no  outward  token 

The  maiden  gave  that  her  heart  was  broken. 

Her  grief  was  mute  as  in  southern  grove 

The  voiceless  woe  of  the  widowed  dove. 

To  me  alone  who  her  childhood  guided 

Was  all  the  pain  she  endured  confided. 

As  dives  the  sea-fowl  with  wounded  breast 

Lest  daylight's  eye  should  upon  it  rest, 

And  there  remaineth  with  life-blood  flowing, 

No  sign  of  weakness  or  misery  showing, 

So  she  in  darkness  her  sutfering  bore. 

And  only  I  saw  her  anguish  sore. 


THE    RETURK.  .  123 

She  often  said:  'I  am  but  an  offering 

For  Bele's  kingdom;  who  talks  of  suffering  I 

The  snow-drop  fragrant,  with  leaf  and  vine 

To  deck  the  victim  in  wreaths  they  twine. 

How  sweet  to  die  and  escape  from  anguish ! 

But  no,  in  pain  must  I  live  and  languish  ; 

For  Balder's  wrath  will  no  rest  allow 

My  aching  heart  and  my  throbbing  brow. 

But  tell  to  no  one  my  secret  sorrow, 

rd  rather  suffer  than  pity  borrow; 

King  Bele's  daughter  her  fate  may  dare,— 

But  kindly  greeting  to  Fridthjof  bear.' 

The  wedding  day  with  its  footsteps  fateful 

Arrived  at  last.     0,  the  day  most  hateful! 

To  the  temple  marched  in  procession  sad, 

The  white-robed  virgins  and  men  steel-clad; 

A  bard  dejected  the  train  was  guiding, 

Tlie  pale  bride  followed,  a  black  steed  riding 

As  pale  was  she  as  the  wraith  which  sits 

On  a  storm-cloud  black,  when  the  lightning  flits. 

Fi-om  off  the  saddle  I  quietly  took  her. 

Nor  at  the  temple  door  forsook  her; 

But  led  her  up  to  the  altar,  where 


124  fridthjof's  saga. 

0- 

Her  vows  she  uttered  in  accents  clear, 
^he  wept  and  prayed,  on  good  Balder  calling, 
While  down  her  cheeks  were  the  tear-drops  falling. 
When  Helge  saw  on  her  arm  your  band, 
He  tore  it  off  with  an  angry  hand; 
On  Balder's  image  now  hangs  the  jewel. 
My  wrath  burst  forth  at  this  act  so  cruel; 
My  sword  was  by  me,  I  drew  it  forth, — 
King  Helge  then  was  but  little  worth. 
'  Let  be,'  said  Ing'borg,  in  acceuts  broken, 
'My  brother  might  surely  have  spared  this  token; 
How  much  one  suffers  ere  death  sets  free, — 
The  Allfather  judgeth  'twixt  him  and  me.'" 

"The  Allfather  judgeth,"  said  Fridthjof  slowly, 
"I  too  would  give  him  my  judgment  lowly. 
Is't  not  now  mid-summer,  Balder's  feast? 
And  in  the  temple  the  crowned  priest, — 
The  king,  who  sold  the  maiden  tender? 
Ah!   yes,  my  judgment  I  fain  would  render." 


balder's  funeral  pile.  125 


XIII. 
BALDER'S   FUNERAL  PILE. 

MIDNIGHT'S  sun  on  the  mountain  lay, 
Blood-red  was  its  gleaming; 
It  was  not  night  nor  was  it  day, 
But  just  between  them  seeming. 

Balder's  bale-fire,  symbol  bright, 
On  sacred  hearth  was  burning, — 

Soon  is  quenched  its  wasted  light,    . 
Hoder's  rei^n  returning. 

Priests  around  the  temple  wall 
Burning  brands  were  grasping; 

Silver-bearded,  old  men  all, — 

Their  hard  hands  flint  knives  clasping. 

The  crowned  king  stands  the  altar  near; 

Hark!   the  midnight  soundeth, — 
With  clash  of  weapons,  sharp  and  clear. 

The  sacred  grove  resoundeth. 


126  fridthjof's  saga. 

"Bjorn,  stand  fast  by  yonder  door, 

No  one  must  pass  under, 
Whosoe'er  would  cross  the  floor, 

Cleave  his  skull  asunder." 

Helge  paled;  he  knew  too  well 
Whose  that  voice  so  ringing. 

Forth  stood  Fridthjof ;   his  fierce  words  fell 
Like  autumn  storm  winds  singing. 

"  Here's  the  ordered  tribute ;  it  came 
Safe  through  the  tempest's  rattl^; 

Take  it;   then  here  by  Balder's  flame, 
For  life  or  death  we'll  battle. 

"  Shields  behind  us,  our  bosoms  free. 

Fair  the  fight  be  reckoned; 
As  king,  the  first  blow  belongs  to  thee. 

Mind  thou,  mine's  the  second. 

"Caught  at  last  is  the  wily  fox, 

Vain  all  thought  of  flying; 
Think  of  her  with  the  golden  locks. 

Of  Framness  wasted  lying." 


balder's  funeral  pile.  127 

Thus  he  spake,  and  the  purse  he'd  brought, 

Forth  he  quickly  drew  it, 
Careless  of  the  mischief  wrought,. 

In  Helge's  face  he  threw  it. 

Darkness  swam  before  the  eyes 

Of  asas'  kinsman  sainted; 
Blood  gushed  forth,  he  could  not  rise, 

But  near  his  altar  fainted. 

"With  the  gold  you  as  tribute  claim. 

Are  you  overpowered? 
None  shall  Anger vadil  blame 

For  felling  such  a  coward. 

"  Silence,  priests  with  altar-knives, 

Moonshine  princes,  quiet! 
Else  my  sword  may  drink  your  lives; 

Thirsting  'tis  to  try  it. 

"  Holy  Balder,  thy  wrath  forbear, 

Nor  'gainst  me  enrol  it; 
But  the  arm-ring  which  you  wear, 

Yonder  craven  stole  it. 


128  fridthjof's  saga. 

"Not  for  thee  did  Volund  old 

Work  its  fair  dimensions; 
The  maiden  wept,  but  the  thief  was  bold; 

Away,  such  false  pretensions." 

Bravely  drew  he;   together  fast 
Arm  and  ring  seemed  growing; 

Angered  Balder,  when  loosed  at  last. 
Fell  'mid  the  embers  glowing. 

Hark!  each  flame,  as  it  leaps  on  high, 

A  golden  tooth  resembles; 
Bjorn,  all  pale,  stands  the  doorway  nigh, 

Fridthjof,  anxious,  trembles. 

"Open,  Bjorn,  let  the  people  go. 

By  watchmen  unimpeded; 
The  temple  burns;  throw  water,  throw 

The  ocean  full,  if  needed." 

Now  a  chain  is  knit  to  the  strand. 
Not  a  link  is  missing; 
•Flies  the  billow  from  hand  to  hand 
Against  the  fire-brands  hissing. 


balder's  funeral  pile.  129 

Fridthjof  sits  like  the  god  of  rain 

High  o'er  beam  and  water, 
Gives  to  all  his  orders  plain, 

Calm  amid  the  slaughter. 

Vain!  the  fire  has  the  upper  hand, 

Smoke-clouds  dense  are  growing, 
Gold  falls  fast  on  the  red-hot  sand, 

Silver  streams  are  flowing. 

All  is  lost!  to  the  half-burned  hall 

A  fire-red  cock  is  clinging, 
He  sits  and  crows  on  the  roof-peak  tall. 

His  loosened  pinions  swinging. 

The  wind-blown  flame  mounts  the  vaulted  sky, 

Everything  it  levels, 
Balder's  grove  is  summer  dry. 

The  hungry  fire-king  revels. 

Fiercely  leaping  from  height  to  height 

Aiming  yet  still  higher; 
0,  what  wild  and  terrific  light ! 

Strong  is^Balder's  pyre! 


130  fridthjof's  saga. 

Hark,  it  crackles !  the  roots  now  burn, 
The  tops  are  fiery  showers; 

Muspel's  ruddy  children  spurn 
Man's  mere  human  powers. 

A  fire-sea  billows  in  Balder's  grove, 
Strandless  breaks  and  hisses, 

The  sun  is  up,  but  bay  and  cove 
Mirror  flaming  abysses. 

Soon  in  smoldering  ashes  lay 
Grove  and  temple's  adorning; 

Sadly  then  Fridthjof  turned  away, — 
Wept  in  the  light  of  morning. 


FRIDTHJOF   GOES   INTO    EXILE.  131 


XIY. 
FRIDTHJOF  GOES   INTO  EXILE. 

ON  deck  at  night 
In  summer  bright 
Silt  Fridthjof  grieving; 
Like  billows  heaving, 
Now  wrath,  now  grief. 
In  his  heart  was  chief; 
And  shoreward  turning 
Saw  fires  still  burning. 

"Thou  temple  reek 
Fly  up  and  seek 
High  Valhal's  towers ; 
The  White  God's  powers 
Call  down  on  me 
With  wrath's  decree. 
And  tell,  swift  bounding, 
The  vault  resounding, 


132  FRIDTHJOF  S   SAGA. 

The  temple  burned 
To  dust  is  turned; 
The  imaged  glory 
But  lives  in  story. 
Quick  burned  the  god 
Like  common  wood. 
The  grove  protected 
Nor  once  neglected 
Since  men  swords  bore 
Is  now  no  more; 
By  fire  the  slaying 
Not  time's  decaying. 
Forget  no  word 
Thou  hast  seen  or  heard, 
In  Balder's  dwelling 
The  story  telling, 
Thou  message  cloud 
Of  gods  the  shroud. 
Long  live  in  story 
King  Helge's  glory, 
Who  exiled  me 
From  him  and  thee, 
My  father's  nation. 


FRIDTHJOF  GOES  INTO  EXILE.  133 

We'll  roam  creation 

Where  blue  is  king, 

Where  wild  waves  sing. 

Thou  canst  not  rest  thee 

Ellide,  haste  thee; 

Earth's  farthest  bound 

We'll  sail  around. 

Soon  thou'lt  be  rocking, 

The  sea-foam  mocking. 

My  dragon  good; 

A  drop  of  blood 

Will  nothing  hinder 

As  on  we  wander. 

In  fiercest  storm 

Art  thou  ray  home; — 

The  one  I  cherished 

By  Helge  perished. 

Thou  art  my  North 

My  foster-earth, — 

The  other  leaving 

I  wander  grieving ; 

My  bride  caressed 

In  black  robes  dressed : 


134 


The  one  in  lustre 
I  could  not  trust  her. 

Thou  ocean  free, 
Unknown  to  thee 
Is  king  oppressive, 
Untrue,  aggressive. 
Thy  king  is  he 
Among  the  free 
Who  trembles  never 
How  high  soever. 
With  wrath  oppressed, 
Heaves  thy  white  breast. 
Blue  fields  are  charming 
And  not  alarming; 
There  heroes  plow 
With  keel  and  bow, 
And  blood-rain  showers 
In  oaken  bowers. 
The  good  steel  blade 
Is  seed-corn  made. 
The  fields  bring  yearly 
Not  honor  merely, 


FRIDTHJOF    GOES    INTO    EXILE.  135 

But  gold  as  well. 

Oh,  kindly  swell, 

Thou  ocean  billow! 

Thee  will  I  follow. 

My  father's  grave 

Calm  waters  lave 

(How  still  he  sleepeth 

Where  green  grass  creepeth). 

Mine  blue  shall  be^ 

Flecked  like  the  sea; 

Forever  floating, 

On  tempest  gloating, 

And  fathoms  deep 

Draw  men  to  sleep; 

To  me  thou'rt  given 

For  life  a  haven ; 

My  grave  thou'lt  be, 

Thou  ocean  free!" 

Thus  inly  burning 
Sang  Fridthjof,  turning 
His  prow  so  true 
From  seas  he  knew, 


136  fridthjof's  saga. 

And  slowly  creeping 
'Mid  rocks  still  keeping 
Their  faithful  ward 
O'er  shallow  fjord. 
But  vengeance  watcheth; 
King  Helge  fetcheth 
Ten  dragons  out. 
The  people  shout, 
With  breath  abated: 
"  The  king  is  fated ; 
He  offers  fight, 
We  scorn  his  might; 
Though  heaven-descended, 
His  reign  is  ended; 
From  earth  we  know 
He  now  must  go. 
The  blood  god-given 
Now  longs  for  heaven." 

Scarce  was  it  spoke 
Ere  keels  of  oak 
By  unseen  power 
Began  to  lower; 


FRIDTHJOF   GOES   INTO,  EXILE.  131 

Then  on  and  on 

Are  downward  drawn 

'To  Ran's  safe  keeping. 

King  Helge,  leaping, 

Is  glad  to  swim 

From  the  sinking  stem. 

And  BJorn,  none  blaming, 

Laughed  loud,  exclaiming: 

"Thou  asa-blood. 

The  art  was  good; 

No  one  detected. 

Or  e'en  suspected, 

I  bored  so  quick, — 

A  worthy  trick! 

May  waves  enfold  them 

And  Ran  still  hold  them 

As  heretofore. 

It  grieves  me  sore 

That  Helge  misses 

False  Ran's  cold  kisses." 

In  wrathful  mood 
King  Helge  stood 


138  peidthjof's  saga. 

From  death  delivered; 

His  round  bow  quivered, 

Though  made  of  steel, 

As  toward  the  shoal 

So  hard  he  drew  it. 

Though  scarce  he  knew  it. 

It  clanging  broke. 

Then  Fridthjof  spoke, 

His  lance  well  aiming, 

While  loud  exclaiming: 

"  A  death-bird  here. 

Enchained  I  bear; 

If  once  set  flying, 

Then  low  is  lying 

Thy  coward  head. 

By  Loke  led 

Thy  fear  abuseth; 

My  lance  refuseth 

A  coward's  blood; 

It  is  too  good 

For  food  so  craven ; 

Its  worth  be  graven 

On  funeral  stone, 


FRIDTHJOF  GOES  INTO  EXILE.  139 

But  not  upon 
A  name  which  beareth 
The  stain  thine  weareth. 
One  exploit  brave 
Sank  'neath  the  wave; 
The  next  one  failed  thee, 
Nor  aught  availed  thee; 
Thy  bow  rust  broke, 
Not  thou.     The  stroke, 
When  I  aspire, 
Is  set  much  higlier, 
As  thou  mayst  see 
'Tis  far  from  thee." 

His  carved  oar  limber 
"Was  fir-tree  timber, — 
A  mast-fir  tall, 
From  Grudbrand's  dale. 
Taking  another, 
With  both  together 
He  rowed  amain ; 
Like  arrowy  cane 


140  fridthjof's  saga. 

Or  steel  blade  brilliant 
Were  the  oars  resiliant. 

The  sun  climbs  up 
The  mountain  slope, 
The  winds,  advancing 
From  land,  to  dancing 
In  morning's  light 

The  waves  invite. 

Where  foam-crest  swimmeth 

Ellide  skimmeth 

On  joyous  wings; 

But  Fridthjof  sings: 

"  Thou  front  of  creation, 

Exalted  North! 
I  have  no  station 

On  thy  green  eartli. 
Thy  lineage  sharing 

My  pride  doth  swell, 
Thou  home  of  daring! 

Farewell,  farewell! 


PRIDTHJOF   GOES   INTO   EXILE.  141 

Farewell  thou  royal 

Valhalla-throne! 
Thou  night's-eye  loyal, 

Midsummer  sun! 
Thou  sky  unclouded 

As  hero's  soul! 
Thou  vault  star-crowded! 

Farewell,  farewell! 

Ye  mountain  ranges 

Where  honor  dwells, 
Creation's  changes 

Your  rune-face  tells. 
Ye  lakes  and  highlands 

I  knew  so  well, 
Ye  rocks  and  islands. 

Farewell,  farewell! 

Farewell  ye  grave-mounds 
Where  the  linden  showers 

Near  azure  wave-bounds 
The  dust  of  flowers! 


142  fridthjof's  saga. 

But  time  revealeth 
And  judge th  well 

What  Qarth  concealeth; 
Farewell,  farewell! 

Farewell  ye  bowers,- 

Beneath  whose  shade 
So  many  hours 

By  brooks  I've  played; 
Ye  friends  of  childhood, 

Ye  meant  me  well, 
I  love  your  wild  wood; 

Farewell,  farewell! 

My  love  is  cheated. 

My  home  is  burned, 
My  shame  completed, 

I'm  exiled,  spurned. 
From  land  appealing 

To  ocean's  swell, 
Life's  joyous  feeling. 

Farewell,  farewell  I 


THE   VIKING   CODE.  143 


XV. 


THE  YIKmG   CODE. 

VrOW   he   floated   around    on   the   desolate    sea,   like   a 
-^^       prey-seeking  falcon  he  rode, 

To  the  champions  on  board  he  gave  justice  and  law; 
wilt  thou  hear  now  the  sea-viking's  code? 

"Make  no  tent  on  thy  ship,  never  sleep  in  a  house,  for 

a  foe  within  doors  you  may  view; 
On  his  shield  sleeps  the  vijiing;   his  sword  in  his  hand, 

and  his  tent  is  the  heavenly  blue. 

"  See  how  short  is  the  shaft  of  the  hammer  of  Thor,  but 
an  ell's  length  the  sword  blade  of  Frey; 

'Tis  enough,  for  your  weapon  will  ne'er  be  too  short  if 
you  dare  near  the  enemy  stay. 

"When  the  storm  rageth  fierce,  hoist  the^sail  to  the  top, — 
0  how  merry  the  storm-king  appears; 

Let  her  drive !  let  her  drive !  better  founder  than  strike, 
for  who  strikes  is  a  slave  to  his  fears. 


144  fridthjof's  saga. 

"  Never  take  on  thy  vessel  the  land-sheltered  maid ;  were 

she  Freyja  herself  she'd  ensnare ; 
For  the  dimples  she  wears  are  but  pitfalls  for  men,  and 

a  net  is  her  free  flowing  hair. 

"Wine  is  Allfather's  drink,  and  the  cup  is  allowed  if  you 

only  can  use  it  with  sense ; 
He  who  falls  on  tlie  land  may  arise, — who  falls  here  lie 

to  Ran,  the  sleep-giving,  goes  hence. 

"If  a  merchant  sail  by,  you  must  shelter  his  ship,  but 
the  weak  will  not  tribute  withhold; 

You  are  king  of  the  waves,  he  a  slave  to  his  gains ;  and 
your  steel  is  as  good  as  his  gold. 

"  Let   your   goods   be  divided  by  lot  or  by  dice,  how  it 

falls  you  may  never  complain ; 
But  the  sea-king  himself  takes  no  part  in  the  lots, —  he 

considers  the  honor  his  gain. 

"If   a   viking-ship   come,  there   is  grappling  and   strife. 

and  the  fight  'neath  the  shields  will  rejoice; 
If  you  yield  but  a  pace  you  are  parted  from  us;  'tis  the 

law,  you  may  act  by  your  choice. 


THE   VIKING   COt)£.  145 

"If  you  win,  be  content;  he  who  praying  for  peace 
yields  his  sword,  is  no  longer  a  foe; 

"  Prayer's  a  Valhalla-child,  hear  the  suppliant  voice ;  he's 
a  coward  who  answereth  no. 

"Wounds  are  viking's  reward,  and  the  pride  of  the  man 
on  whose  breast  or  whose  forehead  they  stand; 

Let  them  bleed  on  unbound  till  the  close  of  the  day,  if 
you  wish  to  be  one  of  our  band." 

Thus  his  law  was  enrolled, —  and   his   name,  every  day, 

through  all  foreign  coasts  grew  renowned; 
For  his  like  was  not  seen  on  the  blue-rolling  sea,  nor  the 
valor  his  champions  crowned. 

Then   he   sat  by  the   rudder   and   sullenly  gazed   in   the 

depths  of  the  blue  rocking  tide; 
"Thou  art  deep;    in   thy  depths   thriveth  peace,  it  may 

be,  but  it  thriveth  not  here  where  we  ride. 

"Is  the  White  Grod  enraged?     Let  him  take  up  his  sword, 

I  will  fall  if  it  thus  is  designed ; 
But   he   sits    in    the   skies,    and   the   thoughts   he   sends 

down  which  forever  are  clouding  my  mind." 

13 


146  fridthjof's  saga. 

When  the  conflict  came  on,  then  his  spirit  arose  like  an 

eagle  refreshed  for  its  flight; 

And  his  brow  it  was  clear,  and  his  voice  it  rang  high, — 

like  the  thunderer  first  in  the  fight. 

So  from  conquest  to  conquest  unbroken  he  went,  and 
was  safe  o'er  the  high,  foaming  grave; 

And  he  saw  in  the  south  many  islands  and  rocks,  till 
he  came  to  the  calm  Grecian  wave. 

When  he  saw  the  green  groves  that  stand  out  from  the 
waves,  and  the  temple  before  him  uprose. 

What  he  thought  Freyja  knows,  and  the  poet  knows  too, 
and  the  lover,  he  knows,  ah !  he  knows ! 

"Here  we  ought  to  have  dwelt,  here's  the  island  and 
grove,  here  the  fane  as  my  father  set  forth. 

It  was  here,  it  was  here  I  invited  my  love,  but  the  cruel 
one  staid  in  the  North. 

"Surely  peace  has  its  home  in  those  blissful  gree^i  dales, — 

in  the  colonnades,  memory's  words; 
Like  the  whisper  of  love  are  the  murmuring  founts,  and 

a  bride-song  the  voice  of  the  birds. 


THE   VIKING    CODE.  147 

"  Where  is  Ingeborg  now  ?  Hath  forgotten  me  quite  for 
the  gray-haired  and  withered  old  king? 

I  can  never  forget,  but  my  life  I  would  give,  if  one  sight 
of  my  love  it  would  bring. 

"  Now  three  years  have  passed  by  since  the  land  I  beheld 

where  heroic  achievement  prevails; 
Tower  the  honored  mounts  yet  to  the  heavenly  blue  ?  is 

it  green  in  my  forefathers'  dales  ? 

"On  the  grave  where  my  father  is  laid  I  once  planted 

a  tree;  can  it  be  it  lives  now? 
And  who  cares    for   the   weakling?     Thou  earth  give  it 

moisture,  and  dew,  kindly  heaven,  give  thou. 

"But  why  linger  I  longer  on  far  distant  waves,  taking 

tribute  and  striking  men  down? 
For  my  soul   but  despises  the  glittering  gold,  and    I've 

gained  quite  enough  of  renown. 

"There's  a  flag  on  the  mast  and  it  points  to  the  North, 
in  the  North  is  the  land  I  hold  dear; 

I  will  follow  the  course  of  the  heavenly  winds,  and  back 
to  the  Northland  I'll  steer." 


148  fridthjof's  saga. 


XVI. 


rPJDTIIJOF  AND  BJORN. 

FEIDTHJOF. 

BJORN,  I  am  weary  of  riding  the  sea, 
Turbulent  traps  are  the  billowy  fountains; 
Northland's  firm  earth  and  her  long  cherished  moun- 
tains, 
Wondrous  attractions,  are  calling  to  me. 
Happy  is  he  by  his  land  unrejected, 
No  one  denies  him  his  father's  green  grave; 
Too  long,  alas,  have  I  wandered  dejected. 
Outlawed,  afloat  on  this  wilderness  wave. 

B,TORN. 

Good  is  the  sea,  your  complaining  you  squander, 
Freedom  and  joy  on  the  sea  flourish  best; 
He  never  knoweth  effeminate  rest, 

Who  on  the  billows  delighteth  to  wander. 
When  I  am  old,  to  the  green  growing  land 

I  too  will  cling,  with  the  grass  for  my  pillow; 


FRIDTHJOF   AND   BJORN.  149 

Now  I  will  drink  and  will  fight  with  free  hand, 
Now  I'll  enjoy  my  own  sorrow-free  billow. 

FKIDTHJOF. 

Now  hath  the  ice  indeed  chased  us  to  land, 

Close  round  our  keel  are  the  stiffened  waves  dozing; 

Let  me  not  waste  the  long  winter  reposing 
Here  among  rocks  on  this  desolate  strand. 

Let  me  once  more  keep  the  Yule  banquet  olden, 
Guest  of  king  Ring  and  the  bride  of  my  choice  ; 

Let  me  once  more  see  those  waving  locks  golden, 
Hear  the  sweet  tones  of  that  well-beloved  voice. 

BJORN. 

Good!  to  king  Ring  it  shall  be  my  glad  duty, 

Something  to  teach  of  a  wronged'  viking's  power ; 

Fire  we  the  palace  at  midnight's  still  hour, 
Scorch  the  old  graybeard  and  bear  off  tlie  beauty. 

Or,  being  viking  you  may  think  it  right 
Honor  to  grant  the  old  man  by  a  duel ; 

Challenge  him  out  on  the  ice  for  a  fight, — 
Whatever  you  will,  only  waiting  is  cruel. 


150  FRIDTHJOF  S   SAGA. 

FRIDTIIJOF. 

Speak  not  of  firebrands,  to  war  give  no  thought, — 

Peace  would  I  bear  to  the  king,  and  not  terror; 

Ring  nor  his  partner  committed  the  error  — 
Heavenly  vengeance  my  punishment  sought. 

Little  of  hope  is  now  left  worth  the  telling. 
Only  farewell  would  I  take  of  my  dear, — 

Final  farewell!     When  the  green  buds  are  swelling, 
Sooner  it  may  be,  you'll  see  Fridthjof  here. 

BJORN. 

Fridthjof,  'tis  time  for  your  folly's  abating; 

Sigh  and  lament  for  a  false  woman's  loss ! 

Earth  is,  alas,  but  too  full  of  such  dross ; 
One  may  be  lost,  still  a  thousand  are  waiting. 

Say  but  the  word,  of  such  goods  I  will  bring 
Quickly  a  cargo, —  the  Southland  can  spare  them, 

Red  as  the  rose,  mild  as  lambs  in  the  spring ; 
Then  we'll  cast  lots,  or  as  brothers  we'll  share  them. 

FRIDTHJOF. 

Bjorn,  you're  as  frank  and  as  joyous  as  Frey, 

Bold  to  wage  war  and  with  wisdom  advising; 

1^ 


FRIDTHJOF    AND    13J0RN.  151 

Odin  and  Thor  you  ne'er  think  of  despising,— 
Freyjg,,  the  heavenly,  you  dare  to  gainsay. 

Let  us  not  question  her  power  supernal. 
Rather  beware  lest  we  waken  her  ire; 

Onee,  though  now  slumbering,  the  sparkle  eternal 
Mortals  and  gods  shall  enkindle  to  fire. 

BJORN. 

Go  not  alone,  lest  return  be  prevented. 

FEIDTH.TOF. 

Singly  I  go  not,  my  sword  goes  with  me. 

BJOEN. 

Hagbert,  remember,  was  hanged  to  a  tree. 

FRIDTHJOF. 

Who  can  be  taken,  to  hang  has  consented. 

BJORN. 

Fallest  thou,  then,  on  thy  murderer  fell 
Carve  I  the  blood-eagle,  vengeance  bestowing. 

FRIDTH.JOF. 

Needless,  fond  Bjorn,  he'll  not  hear  the  cock  crowing 
Longer  than  I  do.     Farewell,  fare  thee  well. 


152 


XVII. 
FRIDTHJOF  COMES   TO  KING  RING. 

KING  King  in  state  was  seated  at  Yule-time  drinking 
mead, 
And  with  him  sat  his  consort,  so  white  and  rosy  red; 
They   seemed  like  Spring  and  Autumn,   when   both   to- 
gether seen, — 
The  king  was  chilly  Autumn,  fresh  Spring  the  fair  young 
queen. 

A  man,  unknown,  there  entered  within  the  spacious  hall, 
From  head  to  foot  enveloped,  a  bear-skin  covering  all; 
And  though   by  staff  supported,  and  bent  with  age  and 

care, 
He  stood 'a  head  the  taller  than  any  champion  there. 

He  chose  for  seat  to  rest  him  a  bench  beside  the  door, — 
'Tis  now  the  poor  man's  station,  as  'twas  in  days  of  yore; 
The  courtiers  all  laughed  loudly,  with  many  a  gibe  and 

jest. 
And  with  the  finger  pointed  to  him  in  bear-skin  dressed. 


FRIDTHJOF   COMES   TO    KING    RING.  153 

The  stranger's  eyes  flashed  lightning  which  made  his 
anger  felt, 

And  quick  a  young  man  seizing  with  one  hand,  by  the  belt, 

Both  up  and  down  he  turned  him ;  then  ceased  the  glee- 
ful din, 

For  all  the  rest  were  silent, —  so  you  and  I  had  been. 

"What  causes  such   an   uproar?  who   dares   disturb   our 

peace  ? 
Old  man,  come  here  and  answer,  and  let  the  tumult  cease; 
Your   name,   your   place,  your   errand;  come,  answer   if 

you  can." 
Thus  spake   the  angered  monarch  to  the  half-concealed 

old  man. 

"You  ask  me  many  questions,  I'll  answer  every  one: 
My  name  (I  will  not  give  it)  belongs  to  me  alone; 
My  birthplace  was  misfortune,  my  heritage  is  want, — 
I  hither  came  but  lately  from  wolf  so  fierce  and  gaunt. 

"In  youth  I  rode  a  dragon  upon  the  waters  blue. 
Its  wings  were  stout,  and  gayly  and  safely  too  it  flew; 
But  crippled  n,ow  and  frozen,  it  leaves  the  land  no  more. 
And  I,  grown  old   and  weary,  burn  salt  upon  the  shore. 


154  FIIIDTHJOF'S   SAGA. 

"I  came  to  see  thy  wisdom,  renowned  so  far  and  wide; 
And  when  they  met  me  rudely  (for  scorn  I'll  not  abide), 
One  idiot  by  the  girdle  I  grasped,  and  turned  him  round, 
For  that  I  beg  your  pardon, —  though  now  he's  safe  and 
sound." 

''Thy  words  are  wisely  chosen,"  said  Ring,  "I  must  agree; 
The  aged  should  be  honored,  come  sit  thee  here  by  me ; 
Slip  off  these  false  disguises  and  let  thy  form  appear, — 
Disguise  is  foe  to  pleasure,  and  pleasure  ruleth  here." 

The  guest  now  loosed  the  bearskin, —  it  fell  from  off  his 

head. 
Where  stood  old  age  decrepit,  each  saw  a  youth  instead, — 
From  off  whose  noble  forehead,  and  round  whose  shoulders 

brave. 
The  light  locks  fell  and  floated  in  many  a  golden  wave. 

In  azure  velvet  mantle,  he  then  stood  forth  erect, 
His  belt  a  silver  girdle  with  forest  beasts  bedecked, — 
Embossed  by  cunning  workman,  each  figure  deftly  traced, 
And   round   and   round   the   hero    they  each    the   other 
chased. 


FRIDTHJOF   COMES   TO    KING    RING.  155 

A  massive  golden  circlet  his  sinewy  arm  displayed ; 
His  battle-sword  hung  by  him  as  though  the  lightning 

stayed ; 
A  hero  glance  about  him  he  cast  from  time  to  time, 
And  stood  as  Balder  beauteous,  as  Asa-Thor  sublime. 

Surprised,  the  queen's  cheeks  quickly  with  changing  color 
glow, 

As  northern  lights  so  ruddy  paint  fields  of  driven  snow; 
■^  As  two  twin  water  lilies,  alarmed  by  tempest's  swell, 
i    Stand  swinging  on  the  billow,  her  bosom  rose  and  fell. 

The   horn    a   shrill   blast   sounded,  then   silence   reigned 

throughout; 
The   hour   for   vows  was   coming,  and   Frey's   boar   now 

they  brought; 
His  mouth  contained  an  apple,  wreaths  on  his  neck  were 

laid. 
His  four  knees  bent  beneath  him  upon  a  silver  cade. 

King  Ring,  his  gray  locks  flowing,  arose  and  straight- 
way now 

The  boar's  head  gently  touching,  he  thus  declared  his 
vow : 


156  FRIDTHJOFS   SAGA. 

"I  swear  to  conquer  Fridthjof,  the  champion  in  war, 
So  help  me  Frey  and  Odin,  and  likewise  mighty  Thor." 

Then  with  a  smile  defiant  uprose  the  stranger  tall, 
A  look  of  wrath  heroic  spread  o'er  his  features  all, — 
He  smote  with  sword  the  table  till  through  the  hall  it 

rang ; 
And  up  from  oaken  benches  the  steel-clad  warriors  sprang. 

"And  now,  sir  king,  please  listen  while  I  my  vow  shall 

tell,— 
Young  Fridthjof  is  my  kinsman,  and  so  I  know  him  well; 
'Gainst  all  the  world  I'll  shield  him,  I  give  you  here  my 

word, 
So  help  me  now  my  norn,  and  likewise  my  good  sword." 

The  king  then  laughed.     "Right  daring,  methinks,  your 

speech,"  said  he, 
"But  in  this  Northland  palace  shall  all  fair  words  be  free; 
My  queen,  fill  him  a  bumper  of  wine,  the  very  best, — 
I  hope  that  through  the  winter  he'll  here  remain  our  guest." 

The  queen  then  took  the  goblet,  before  her  it  was  placed, — 
A  rare  and  costly  jewel,  which  once  the  ure's  head  graced; 


FRIDTHJOF   COMES  TO    KIKG   KlKG.  157 

It  stood  on  feet  of  silver,  and  on  its  golden  bands 
Were  runes  of  high  achievement,  engraved  by  skillful  hands. 

Witli  downcast  eyes  she  reached  him  the  goblet,  brimming 

filled,— 
But  with   a   hand    so   trembling   that  wine   thereon  was 

spilled ; 
As  evening's  shades  so  ruddy  upon  the  lilies  glow. 
So  gleamed  the  drops  of  ruby  on  hand  as  white  as  snow. 

The  guest  the  horn  accepted  with  reverential  bow, — 
Not  two  men  could  have  drained  it,  as  men  are  reckoned 

now, — 
Without  an  instant's  waiting  the  strong  man,  at  a  draught. 
The  lovely  queen  to  honor,  the  brimming  ruby  quaffed. 

The  skald  at  table  seated,  his  waiting  harp  brought  forth, 
And  sang  a  heartfelt  story  of   true  love  in  the  North, — 
Of  Hagbert  and  of  Signe;   and  at  the  deep  tones'  peal 
Each  warrior's  heart  was  melted,  though  clad  his  breast 
in  steel. 

He  sang  of  Valhal's  mansions,  of  heroes'  blest  reward, 
Of  ancient  deeds  of  valor,  on  fields  of  wave  and  sward; 


158  fridthjof's  saga. 

Th<3n  grasped  each:  hand  its  sword-hilt,  then  flashed  each 

eye  i^te^t,-:^.;    , 
And.  quickly   round ,  tlie   table    the   foaming   mead-horn 

went.  ' 

And  lively  was  the  drinking  within  that  royal  hall, — 
An  honest  Yule  carousal  engaged  the  champions  all; 
The  sleep  that  followed  after  no  care  or  anger  stained; 
But  Ring,  the  ag^d  monarch,  with  Ingeborg  remained. 


THE    RIDE    ON   THE    ICE.  159 


XVIII. 


THE  RIDE  ON   TH 


KING  RING  to  a  banquet  his  queeu  would  take, 
The  ice  hke  a  mirror  o'erspread  the  lake. 


"Go  not  on  the  ice,"  said  the  stranger  bold, 

"It  may  break,  and  the  bath  is  too  deep  and  cold." 

"The  king,"  answered  Ring,  "is  not  easily  drowned. 
Whoever  is  fearful  let  him  go  round." 

The  stranger  was  angered  and  sullen  frowned, — 
Then  quickly  his  skates  to  his  feet  he  bound. 

The  sledge-horse  sets  out,  he  is  strong  and  free, — 
His  nostrils  are  flaming,  so  glad  is  he. 

"Strike  out,"  cried  the  monarch,  "my  charger  good, 
And  show  if  you  are  of  the  Sleipner  blood." 

As  swift  as  a  storm  on  the  sea  his  speed ; 

The  prayers  of  the  queen  does  the  king  not  heed. 


160  fkidthjof's  saga. 

The  stranger  in  mail  on  his  skates  is  not  still, 
But  passes  them  swiftly  whenever  he  will. 

He  writes  many  runes  on  the  ice  besides, — 
And  over  her  name  lovely  Ingeborg  rides. 

They  swiftly  speed  onward,  the  lake  to  span, 
But  under  them  lurketh  the  treacherous  Ran. 

Her  silvery  roof  in  a  trice  she  breaks. 

And  catches  the  sled  in  the  hole  she  makes. 

The  cheeks  of  the  beautiful  queen  turn  pale; 
Then  comes  like  a  whirlwind  the  skater  in  mail. 

He  buries  his  skate  in  the  ice,  to  clasp 
The  steed's  flowing  mane  in  his  iron  grasp. 

With  one  single  effort  his  arm  he  swings. 
And  charger  and  sled  to  the  firm  ice  brings. 

"That  stroke,"  said  Ring,  "was  a  noble  one, — 
Not  Fridthjof,  the  strong,  could  have  better  done. 

So  they  all  returned  to  the  house  of  the  king, — 
The  stranger  remaining  until  the  spring. 


pridthjof's  temptation.  161 


XIX. 


FEIDTHJOF'S   TEMPTATION. 

SPRING  is  coming,  song-birds  twitter,  woods  are  leafing, 
smiles  the  sun ; 
Dancing  downward,  toward   the   ocean,  see  the  loosened 

rivers  run; 
Glowing   like   the    cheeks  of  Frejja,  from  the  buds   the 

roses  ope, — 
Hearts  of  men  to  life  awaken,  full  of  courage,  love'  and 
hope. 

Ho!   the  chase!    the  aged  monarch  with   his   queen  will 

go  to-day; 
Now  in  crowds  the  court  assembles,  waiting  in  confused 

array, — 
Bows  are  clanging,  quivers  rattling,  steeds  impatient  paw 

the  ground; 
Hooded  falcons,  wildly  shrieking,  make  the  echoing  hills 

resound. 

14 


162  fridthjof's  saga. 

See!  the  queen  appears!     Poor  Fridthjof,  do  not  thither 

cast  your  eye;  ^ 

Sits  she  on  her  milk-white  palfrey  like  a  star  in  spring's 

clear  sky, — 
Half  a  Freyja,  half  a  Rota, —  lovelier  far  than  either  one, — 
From  her  dainty  hat  of  purple,  plumes  are  waving  in  the 

sun. 

Look  not  on   those   eyes   so  heavenly, —  of  those  golden 

locks  beware! 
Oh!  take  care!   that  form  is  supple,  full  that  bosom,  oh! 

take  care! 
Look  not  where,  the  rose  and  lily  shifting  hues  alternate 

fling; 
Listen  not  to  those  loved  accents,  sighing  like  the  winds 

of  spring. 

Now  the  hunting  troop  is  ready.     Hark,  through   hills 

and  valleys  all 
Sounds  the  horn,  the  falcon  loosened  straight  ascends  to 

Odin's  hall; 
Forest  denizens  in  terror  haste  to  seek  their  cavern-homes ; 
But,   with   spear  outstretched    before   her,   each   valkyrie 

swiftly  comes. 


fridthjof's  temptation.  163 

Aged  Ring  no  longer  follows  where  the  eager  hunter  flies  ; 
By   his   side    alone    rides   Fridthjof,    silent,    grave,    with 

downcast  eyes. 
Darkest   thoughts,  and   full   of   anguish,  stir  within   his 

sorrowing  breast, 
And  wherever  he  may  wander,  liaunting  voices  banish  rest. 

"Oh,  the  sea!  why  did  I  leave  it?  thus  to  my  own  peril 

blind! 
Sorrow  thrives  not  on  the  billow,  scattered  'tis  by  every 

wind. 
Broods  the   viking?  —  danger   cometh    bidding   him   the 

lance  prepare; 
Vanish  then  all  sad  reflections,  blinded  by  the  weapon's 

glare. 

"Here,  a  longing,  past  describing,  flaps  its  wings  about 
my  brow. 

And  like  one  asleep  and  dreaming,  to  and  fro  I  wan- 
der now ; 

Balder's  precincts  I  remember,  nor  forget  the  oath  she 
gave,— 

'Twas  the  gods,  not  she  who  broke  it, —  gods  relentless 
as  the  grave. 


164 

"  For  they  hate  the  race  of  mortals,  on  their  joy  with 
anger  look, 

So  to  deck  cold  winter's  hosom,  they  my  tender  rose-bud 
took ; 

What  does  Winter  with  my  blossom  ?  Can  he  under- 
stand its  worth  ? 

Nay,  but  bud  and  stem  and  leaflet,  clothes  in  ice  with 
frosty  breath." 

4  Thus  bewailed  he.  Soon  they  came  into  a  dark  and 
lonesome  dell. 

Gloomy,  crowded  'twixt  two  mountains;  o'er  it  densest 
shadows  fell. 

Then  the  monarch  halted,  saying:  "See  how  lovely,  fresh 
and  deep! 

I  am  weary  and  would  rest  me,  fain  would  have  a  mo- 
ment's sleep." 

"Sleep  not   here,  for   hard  and  chilly  is  the  ground,  0 

king,  indeed; 
Up,  thy    sleep    will    not    refresh    thee,  let   me   back    the 

monarch,  lead." 
"  Like   the   other   gods,  sleep  cometh    unexpected.    Does 

my  guest," 


pridthjof'b  temptation.  165 

Said   the    king   with   feeble   accents,  "grudge  his  host  a 
moment's  rest  ?  " 

Fridthjof  then   took   off  his   mantle,   and    outspread    it 

'neath  a  tree, 
And   the    king,  in  trusting  friendship,  laid  his  head  on 

Fridthjof 's   knee; 
Soon  he  slept  as  sleeps  the  hero  after  battle's  rude  alarms. 
On  his   shield,  or    as    an  infant  cradled   in  his  mother's 

arms.  ^ \ 

As    he  slumbers,  hark!    there  singeth   from  a   branch  a 

coal-black  bird; 
"  Hasten,  Fridthjof,  slay  the  gray-beard,  free  your  mind 

by  discord  stirred ; 
ake  the  queen,  she's  thine  by  promise;  thee  the  bridal 

kiss  she  gave. 
Human  eyes  do  not    behold  thee ;  deep  and  silent  is  the 

grave." 

Fridthjof  listens ;   hark !  there  singeth  from  a    branch  a 

snow-white  bird: 
"  Though   no    human    eye    behold    thee,    Odin    sees    and 

hears  each  word; 


166  fridthjof's  saga. 

Coward,  wilt  thou  murder  slumber  ?  Slay  an  old  de- 
fenceless man  ? 

"Win  what  else,  the  crown  of  heroes  is  not  won  by  such 
a  plan." 

p 

So  sang  both  the  birds,  but  Fridthjof,  snatching  up  his 

battle-blade. 
Flung  it  from  him  with  a  shudder,  far  into  the  gloomy 

glade. 
Black-bird  flew  away  to  Nastrand,  airily  the  other  one, 
Singing,   sweetly   as    a    harp-tone,   straightway   mounted 

toward  the  sun. 

Suddenly  the  old  man  wakens.  "Much  that  sleep  was 
worth  to  me; 

Guarded  by  a  brave  man's  weapon,  sleep  is  sweet  beneath 
a  tree. 

Yet  I  do  not  see  your  weapon;  where  has  fled  the  light- 
ning's twin  ? 

What  has  parted  you  who  never  in  your  lives  have 
parted  been?" 

"Little  matters  it,"  said  Fridthjof,  "'tis  not. hard  to  find 
a  sword  ; 


FRIDTH.TOF's   TEMPTATION".  167 

Sharp  its  tongue,  0  king,  and  never  speaks  for  peace  a 

single  word ; 
Haunted    'tis    by    evil    spirit,    black,    from    Niflheim    it 

roams. 
Sleep  is   here    in  danger  from    it,  seeking  silver  locks  it    %| 

comes." 

"I,  0  youth,  have  not  been   sleeping,  but  to  prove  you 

have  I  tried ; 
Man  or  sword   a   wise  man    testeth,  ere  in    them  he  can 

confide. 
You  are  Fridthjof;   since  you  entered  first  my  hall  I've 

known  you  well ; 
Ring,  though  old,  at  once  detected  what  his  guest  would 

fain  conceal. 

"Wherefore,  thus  into  my  dwelling,  crept  you  nameless, 

in  disguise  ? 
Wherefore  but  to  cheat  and  rob  me,  and  my  bride   bear 

off  a  prize? 
Honor,    Fridthjof,   sits   not    nameless,   hospitality's    rude 

guest ; 
Bright  its  shield  as  sun  at  noonday,  on  its  face  all  eyes 

may  rest. 


168  fridthjof's  saga. 

"  Fame  had  told  us  of  a  Fridthjof,  whom  both  men  and 

gods  revere; 
Shields    he   cleft    and   temples   wasted,    bold   and   brave, 

without  a  fear. 
Soon  with  war-shield,  so  I  reasoned,  lie  will  come  against 

my  land; 
And  he  came,  but  clad   in    tatters,    beggar's   staff  within 

his  hand. 

••  Wherefore  now  cast  down  your  eyelids  ?     Once,  like  you, 

I  too  was  young; 
From   the    first    is    life    a    struggle,    and   fresh    youth  its 

Berserk-gang. 
Hardly    pressed    and    tried    it    must    be,    that    its    onset 

triumph  not; 
I  have  proved  you  and  forgiven,  I  have  pitied  and  forgot. 

"Now  am  I  grown  old  and  weary,  in  the  grave  shall  rest 

me  soon. 
Therefore   take,  0  youth,  my    kingdom,  take   my  queen, 

she  is  thine  own ; 
Be  my  son,  till  then  remaining  still  my  guest  as  heretofore. 
Swordless  champion  shall  protect  me  and  our  feud  exist 

no  more." 


FRIDTHJOF'S   TEMPTATION.  169 

"As  a  thief,"  said  Fridthjof  sadly,  "came  I  not,  0  king, 

to  thee; 
Had  1  wished    thy  qaeen    to   capture,    tell   me,  who  had 

hindered  me? 
But   my  bride,   tliough    lost    forever,   wished  I  to  behold 

once  more; 
Fool    was   I!    anew  I    kindled    flames    which    were    half 

quenched  before. 

"  In  thy  halls  too  long  I've  tarried ;  here  I  must  no  longer 

stay. 
Gods  unreconciled  their  anger  rest  upon  me  day  by  day; 
Balder,  with  the  light  locks  flowing,  loveth  all  mankind 

but  one; 
Only  I  am  now  rejected;  see,  he  hateth  me  alone! 

"Yes,  I  set  on  fire  his  temple.    Fane-profaner  call  they  me. 
Children  shriek  when  I  am  mentioned,  joy  and  gladness 

from  me  flee; 
Northland  casteth  out  the  lost  one,  and  in  anger  cries  — 

depart ! 
In  my  native  land  I'm  outlawed,  I  am  outlawed  in  my 

heart. 


170  fkidthjof's  saga. 

"I  will  seek  for  peace  no  longer  on  the  earth,  so  green 

and  sweet, 
Trees  no  more  their  shade  afford   me,  burns  the  ground 

beneath   my  feet. 
Ingeborg  I've  lost  forever ;  she,  my  bride,  accepted  Ring, 
From  my  life  the  sun  has  vanished,  night  and  noonday 

darkness  bring. 

"Therefore  hence  to  ocean's  billow!    Out,  away  my  dragon 

good, 
Bathe  again  thy  pitch-black  bosom  in  the  briny  boiling 

flood ; 
Wave  in  clouds   thine   inky  pinions,  let  the   sea  a  path 

prepare, 
Fly  as  far  as  star  can  guide  us,  far  as  conquered  billows 

bear. 

"Let  me  hear  the  rolling  thunder,  let  me  hear  the  light- 
ning's voice; 

When  it  thunders  all  around  me,  Fridthjof's  heart  will 
then  rejoice; 

Clang  of  shields  and  rain  of  arrows!  Let  the  sea  the 
battle  fill ; 

Purified,  Pll  then  fall  gladly,  reconciled  to  heaven's  will." 


KING    ring's    death.  171 


XX. 


KING    RING'S   DEATH. 

GOLDEN  mane  flowing, 
Skinfaxe  duteous 
Draweth  the  spring  sun  more  bright  than  before; 
Morning  beams  glowing 
Doubly  as  beauteous, 
Sport  in  the  hall; — there's  a  knock  at  the  door. 

Though  his  heart  grieveth, 
Enters  the  stranger; 
Pale  sits  the  king,  while  the  queen's  gentle  breast 
Billow-like  heaveth; 
Singeth  the  ranger 
A  song  of  departure,  with  sorrow  oppressed. 

"Bathes  now  the  billow 
Winged  steed  flying, 
Sea-horse  is  longing  to  flee  from  the  strand; 
Glad  will  he  follow 


172  feidthjof's  saga. 

Him  who  is  hieing 
Far  from  his  home  and  his  well  beloved  land. 

"  The  arm-ring  I  give  thee, 
Ing'borg,  receive  it. 
Holiest  memories  with  it  remain. 
Ne'er  let  it  leave  thee; 
Fridthjof,  believe  it 
Truly  forgives.     Thou'lt  not  see  him  again. 

"No  more  beholding 

The  smoke's  upward  motion 
Northland  I'll  see.     Truly  man  is  a  slave ; 
Fate  is  unyielding; 
Far  on  the  ocean 
There  is  my  fatherland,  there  is  my  grave, 

*'  When  in  your  roaming 
Stars  the  vault  cover, 
Go  not  with  Ingeborg  down  to  the  strand ; 
Lest  in  the  gloaming 
You  should  discover 
Fridthjof.  the  outlawed  cast  up  on  tlie  sand." 


KiUfG  ring's  death.  173 

"Sad  is  the  hearing," 
Ring  said,  replying, 
"  When    a  man    moans  like  a  weak  maiden's  sigh. 
Valhal  is  n earing, 

E'en  now  the  sighing 
Death  song  I  hear.     Every  mortal  must  die. 

"No  one  can  frighten, 
Or  hy  complaining 
Change  the  allotment  the  norns  have  set  down ; 
Sorrow  thou'lt  lighten 

O'er  the  land  reigning, — 
Take  thou  my  queen,  for  my  son  guard  the  crown. 

"True  is  it  spoken. 
Loved  and  respected 
Peaceful  I've  reigned,  over  mountain -and  vale; 
Yet  have  I  broken 

Shields,  unprotected. 
Landward  and  seaward,  without  turning  pale. 

"Now  shall  the  bleeding 
Geirs-odd  relieve  me, — 


174  fridthjof's  saga. 

Dying  in  bed  ill  befits  Northland's  kings ; 
Not  worth  my  heeding, 

Death  shall  receive  me, — 
Lite's  pain  is  equal  to  that  which  death  brings." 

Then  carved  he  rightly 
Letters  all  glowing, — 
Death  runes  to  Odin  on  arm  and  on  chest; 
Shine  now  so  brightly 
Blood-drops  o'erflowing, 
Dyeing  the  silvery  hair  on  his  breast. 

"Bring  for  my  drinking 

The  horn  with  wine  flowing-; 
Skoal  to  thy  honor,  thou  land  of  my  birth! 
Minds  deeply  thinking. 

Harvest  fields  growing, — 
Peaceful  exploits  have  I  loved  on  the  earth. 

"Vain  amid  slaughter 
Bloody  and  daring, 
Sought  I  for  peace, —  she  fled  in  dismay. 
Now  4he  mild  daughter 


KING    RING'S   DEATH.  175 

Of  heaven  appearing, 
Beckons  me  hence  to  Valhal  away. 

"  Hail  ye  immortals ! 

Sons  of  high  heaven! 
Earth  disappears;   Gjallarhorn  to  a  feast 
Opens  the  portals; 
By  the  gods  given, 
Blessedness  crowns  as  a  helmet  the  guest ! " 

Speaking  intently, 

Ing'borg's  hand  loyal, 
Also  his  son's,  and  his  friend's,  too,  he  pressed; 
Eyelids  close  gently, — 
Spirit  so  royal 
Flies  with  a  sigh  to  the  Allfather's  breast. 


176  fridthjof's  saga. 


XXI. 
KING'S    DRAPA. 

SEPULTURED  sits  he, 
Sovereign  descended, 
Battle  sword  by  him, 
Buckler  on  arm  ; 
Chafes  his  good  charger 
Champing  impatient, 
Pawing  with  gold-hoof 
The  gate  of  the  grave. 

Ring,  great  in  riches, 
Rideth  o'er  Bi frost ; 
Bends  with  its  burden, 
Bridge  of  the  gods. 
Wide  for  his  welcome 
Valhal  it  opens, 
Hands  to  the  hero 
Heaven  extends. 


ring's  drapa.  177 

Absent  is  Asa-Thor, 
Active  in  warfare. 
Beckoned  by  Odin 
The  beaker  is  brought; 
Frey  the  king  graces 
With  garlands  of  grain-ears, 
Blossoms  the  bluest 
Binds  Frigg  therein. 

Graspeth  the  gold-string, 
Gray-bearded  Brage, 
Stiller  now  sigheth 
The  song  than  before; 
Freyja  the  faithful, 
Fondly  reclining, 
Bends  o'er  the  board  and 
Burneth  to  hear. 

"Sing  high  the  smiting 
Of  sword  upon  helmet,  , 
Boisterous  billows. 
Bloody  for  aye ; 
Power,  the  gift  of 
Gods  ever  gracious, 


178  fridthjof's  saga. 

Bitter  as  berserk 
Biting  the  shield. 

"  Hence  was  the  hero-king, 
Heaven-born  dear  to  us, 
Showing  his  shield 
A  shelter  for  peace. 
Power's  embodiment 
Plainly  impersonate, 
Soared  like  a  sacrifice- 
Smoke  to  the  sky. 

"Words  full  of  wisdom 
Wise  Odin  chooseth 
Sitting  with  Saga 
Solivabek's  maid. 
Such,  too,  the  saying 
Spoke  by  the  monarch, 
Fair  as  of  Mimer 
Flows  the  clear  fount. 

"Forsete  faithful 
All  feuds  adjusteth, 
Sitting  serenely 


ring's  drapa.  179 

By  the  side  of  Urd's  spring; 
Thus  high  enthroned 
Thou,  king  beloved, 
Potently  pleadest 
For  peace  in  the  land. 

"  Niggard  in  nothing, 
Near  and  far  strewed  he 
Beauty  and  blessing, 
Bought  with  his  gold ; 
Gave  he  most  gladly 
Guerdon  unstinted, 
Sadness  he  solaced. 
Suffering  relieved. 

"  Welcome,  thou  wisest 
Winner  of  Valhal! 
Long  thou'lt  be  lauded, 
Loved  of  the  North. 
Brage,  the  bearded, 
Bears  thee  the  mead-horn, 
Favored  of  fortune. 
Friend  from  below." 


180  fridthjof's  saga. 


XXII. 


THE   KING'S  ELECTION. 


TO  thing!  to  th 
The  cry  arose. 


thing ! "  from  dale  to  hill 

"King  Ring  is  dead;  his  place  to  fill 
A  king  we'll  choose." 

From  off  the  wall  the  peasant  moves 

His  steel  sword  blue; 
Its  edge  his  practiced  finger  proves, 

It  biteth  true. 

The  boys  admire  in  pleased  surprise 

The  gleaming  blue ; 
To  lift  the  sword  one  vainly  tries, 

It  needeth  two. 

The  daughter  scours  the  helmet  clean, 

Bright  shall  it  be, 
And  blushes,  in  its  silvery  sheen 

Her  face  to  see. 


THE    king's    election.  181 

At  last  he  takes  his  shield  so  round, 

A  sun  in  blood ; 
"  Hail !  iron  man,  so  strong  and  sound, 

Tiiou  peasant  good  ! 

Renown  and  power  wiiich  nations  wield 

From  thee  they  draw. 
In  war  thou  art  thy  country's  shield, 

In  peace  its  law." 

The  assembly  met,  while  sounding  high 

Were  arms  and  shields. 
In  open  thing,  'neath  heaven's  sky, 

In  fair  green  fields. 

Upon  the  thing-stone  Fridthjof  stands. 

And  with  him  there 
A  little  one  with  shining  bands 

Of  golden  hair. 

Then  rose  the  cry  on  every  hand  : 

"  Too  small  indeed 
The  king's  son  is  to  rule  our  land, 

Our  wars  to  lead." 


182  fridthjof's  saga. 

But  Fridthjof  on  his  shield  raised  up 

The  little  boy: 
"Ye  Norsemen,  here  behold  your  hope, 

Your  king,  your  joy. 

"High  Odin's  race  embodied  here 

In  image  see, 
As  much  at  home  'mid  shield  and  spear, 

As  fish  in  sea. 

"I  swear  my  lance  and  sword  to  set 

Round  land  and  throne, 
And  with  the  father's  coronet 

To  crown  the  son. 

"The  oath  I  make  to  Baldei''s  son* 

Of  high  renown, 
And  if  I  fail,  may  he  not  shun 

To  strike  me  down." 

The  boy  sat  on  the  shield  so  high 

As  'twere  a  throne. 
Undaunted  as  the  eaglet's  eye 

Looks  toward  the  sun. 

*  Foruete. 


THE  king's  election.  183 

At  last  impatient  grew  his  blood, 

And  to  the  ground, 
The  cliild  leaped  down  and  fearless  stood  ; — 

A  kingly  bound ! 

Then  rose  the  cry  from  all  the  thing: 

"  We  of  the  North, 
We  choose  hut  thee,  be  like  king  Ring, 

Thou  shield-borne  youth. 

"And  Fridthj of  shall  a  guardian  be, 

Thy  youth  to  guide; 
His  mother,  earl,  we  give  to  thee, 

To  be  thy  bride." 

But  Fridthjof  frowned:  "To-day,"  said  he, 

"Election  make, 
But  not  a  bridal ;  leave  to  me 

A  bride  to  take. 

"  To  Balder's  temple  I'll  repair, 

I  go  to  see 
The  norns  who  are  already  there 

Awaiting  me. 


184  fridthjof's  saga. 

"With  them  a  council  I  have  willed, 

The  shield-maids  true, — 
Beneath  the  tree  of  time  they  build, 

Above  it  too. 

"Against  me  Balder's  anger  sore 

Doth  still  abide; 
He  took,  he  only  can  restore 

My  cherished  bride." 

Saluting  then  the  monarch  new. 

He  kissed  his  brow. 
And  o*er  the  broom -heath  passed  from  view, 

Silent  and  slow. 


FKIDTHJOF    AT   Hlti    FATHEK's    GRAVE.  185 


XXIII. 

FRIDTHJOF  AT   HIS   FATHER'S   GRAVE. 

"  TJ  OW  brightly  smiles  the  sun,  so  friendly  seeming, 

^^  As  swift  from  branch  to  branch  its  soft  rays  glide! 
Allfather's  light  within  the  dew-drop  gleaming, 

Is  clear  and  pure  as  in  the  ocean  wide. 
Seel   all  the  mountain  tops  with  red  are  streaming, — 

From  Balder's  altar  flows  the  bloody  tide; 
In  night  will  shortly  sink  the  world's  commotion, 
As  sinks  the  golden  shield  beneath  the  ocean. 

"  Yet  let  me  first  behold  those  Avell  known  places, 
My  childhood  friends  that  I  have  loved  so  well ; 

The  same  sweet  beauty  still  the  valley  graces, 
The  same  birds  yet  alight  in  wood  and  dell ; 

The  same  blue  wave  the  stable  rock  embraces, — 
Oh,  would  I  ne'er  had  tried  its  treacherous  swell! 

It  always  speaks  of  fame  and  high  endeavor, 

But  far  from  home  it  bears  tliee  on  forever. 

16 


186  FRTDTHJOF  S   SAGA. 

"I  know  thee,  stream,  whose  waters  erst  were  freighted 
With  swimmer  bold,  who  with  thy  billows  fought  I 

I  know  thee,  too,  thou  vale  where  oft  we  plighted 
Eternal  faith  I    Alas!   earth  hold4s  it  not! 

Ye. birchen  trees,  whose  bark  I  carved  delighted 
With  many  runes,  .still  wedded  to  the  spot 

Your    white   stems    stand,    crown-capped    with    sunshine 
golden. 

All  save  myself  unchanged  since  days  now  olden. 

"Is  all  unchanged?     Where,  then,  is  Framness'  dwelling, 
And  Balder's  temple  on  the  sacred  shore? 

At  thought  of  childhood's  dales  my  heart  is  swelling, 
But  fire  and  sword  devoured  them,  they're  no  more. 

Of  human  vengeance,  of  God's  wrath  their  telling 
To  wanderers  over  blackened  field  and  floor; 

Thou  pious  pilgrim,  come  not  here  to  ponder. 

For  forest  beasts  in  Balder's  grove  now  wander. 

"With  Nidhug's  curse  each  human  life  is  teeming, — 
The  cruel  tempter  from  the  land  of  shade. 

He  hates  the  asa-light  with  glory  beaming 
On  hero's  ])row  and  on  liis  sliinini^:  blade; 


FRIDTHJOF   AT   HIS    FATHER'S   GRAVE.  187 

Each  coward  deed,  each  act  of  wrathful  seeming, 

Is  his,  a  tribute  unto  darkness  paid; 
He  wins  when  temples  burn  and  gods  are  slighted. 
He  claps  his  coal-black  hands  and  laughs  delighted. 

"Is  there  no  expiation,  radiant  heaven? 

Thou  blue-eyed  god,  dost  thou  no  penance  take? 
Man  pardons  man  who  has  for  pardon  striven, 

When  men  atone  the  gods  their  wrath  forsake; 
By  thee,  the  mildest  one,  I'm  unforgiven ; — 

Command,  and  any  sacrifice  I'll  make ; 
No  will  had  Fridthjof  in  the  temple's  burning  ; 
Oh  I  stainless  make  his  shield,  thine  anger  turning. 

"Thy  burden  take  away,  I  cannot  bear  it, 

The  dark  wood's  music  in  my  soul  doth  cry. 

A  moment's  fault !  cannot  a  life  repair  it, — 

An  upright  life  ?     Then  hear  my  contrite  sigh  ! 

If  Thor's  fierce  bolt  should  strike,  I  still  would  dare  it: 
Nor  shrink  to  meet  the  look  of  Hel's  pale  eye. 

Thou  pious  god,  who  moonlight  glances  bendest, 

'Tis  thee  I  fear,  and  vengeance  which  thou  sendest 


188  fridth.tof's  saga. 

"My  father's  grave  is  here.     The  hero  sleepeth; — 
Alas!  whence  he  has  gone  none  ever  roam; 

A  starry  tent  his  home,,  no  more   he  weepeth, 

Where  shields  rejoice  and  brimming  mead-horns  foam 

Thou  asa-guest,  from  heaven  look  down  where  keepeth 
His  weary  watch  thy  child.     0  father,  come  I 

I  bring  not  runes  nor  charms,  but  l)ending  lowly 

Would  learn  to  appease  pale  Balder  holy. 

"Still  silent  is  the  grave?     Ah  yes,  and  cruel. 

A  sword  roused  Angantyr  within  his  grave; 
A  sword  is  naught, — Tirfing  a  trifling  jewel 

Compared  with  what  I  ask.     A  sword  the  brave 
Can  gain  on  battle  field  or  in  a  duel, — 

Forgiveness  from  the  asas'  home  I  ci-sive; 
Bear  thou  my  plea,  my  sorrowing  look  to  heaven, 
No  rest  have  noble  minds  if  unforgiven. 

"Thou'rt  silent,  father!     Hear  the  waves  resounding, 
And  send  thy  loving  word  by  their  sweet  cry ; 

Now  flies  the  storm,  on  its  swift  pinions  bounding, 
0,  whisper  to  me  as  it  flieth  by ; 


FRIDTHJOf    AT    HIS    FATHER'S    GRAVE.  189 

See  golden  rings  the  western  sky  surrounding, 

Let  them  the  message  give  which  words  deny. 
No  sign  or  answer  for  thy  son  forsaken  ? 
How  poor  indeed  are  those  whom  death  lias  taken  ! " 

The  sun  is  quenched.     The  evening  breeze  is  stealing 

Upon  earth's  children  witli  its  lullaby, 
And  sunset  tints  in  myriad  circles  wheeling 

Around  the  brim  of  heaven's  rosy  sky, 
O'er  hill  and  dale  their  azure  hues  revealing, 

A  vision  now  of  Valhal  passeth  by  ; 
Then  unexpected  comes  with  rustling  motion. 
An  image,  gold  and  flames  from  western  ocean. 

A  wondrous  Hagring  now  the  heavens  covers, 

(The  name  that  Valhal  gives  hath  lovelier  sound). 

And  over  Balder's  grove  it  gently  hovers, — 
A  golden  chaplet  set  in  emerald  ground ; 

Resplendence  everywhere  the  eye  discovers, 
Such  lustre  mortals  ne'er  before  had  found. 

It  stops  and  sinks  to  earth,  not  disappearing, — 

But  where  the  temple  stood,  a  temple  rearinsr. 


196  fridthjof's  saga. 

An  imaged  Breidablik  its  wall  upreareth, 

(So  burnished  silver  on  the  cliff  had  shone), 

Each  pillar  cut  of  deep  blue  steel  appeareth, 
The,  altar  is  a  single  precious  stone, 

A  power  unseen  the  vaulted  roof  upbeareth, — 
A  winter  sky  with  sparkling  stars  o'erstrewn  ; 

And  there  with  golden  crowns  and  robes  befitting, 

Of  azure  splendor,  ValhaFs  gods  are  sitting. 

With  rune- writ  shields,  the  maids  of  fateful  power, 
The  noble  norns,  within  the  portal  stand, — 

Three  rosebuds  springing  in  a  single  flower, 
A  grave  and  yet  a  fascinating  band; 

While  Urd  is  pointing  to  the  ruined  tower, — 

The  new  one  Skuld  doth  greet  with  welcome  hand 

But  scarce  restored  is  Fridthjof,  filled  with  blended 

Delight  and  wonder,  ere  the  scene  is  ended. 

"From  you,  Time's  maidens,  comes  illumination,— 
Thine,  hero-father,  is  the  token  good ; 

The  wasted  shrine  I'll  build  on  sure  foundation, 
In  beauty  shall  it  stand  where  erst  it  stood; 


I 


FRIDTHJOF   AT   HIS    FATHER'S    GBAVE.  191 


How  excellent  to  thus  make  expiation, 

By  peaceful  deeds  to  atone  for  actions  rude  I 
The  outcast  still  may  hope  who  sues  in  meekness,— 
The  White  God  softens,  and  forgives  his  weakness. 

"All  hail,  ye  myriad  stars  in  splendor  heamingi 
With  joy  I  watch  you  silent  tread  the  skies; 

And  welcome,  Northern-lights,  above  me  streaming,— 
No  more  a  flaming  temple  to  mine  eyes; 

Grow  green,  0  gravel  and  from  the  wave  bright  gleaming 
Thou  wondrous  melody  again  arise. 

ril  sleep  upon  my  shield,  and  dream    how  heaven 

Forgets  the  faults  its  mercy  hath  forgiven. 


192  fkidthjof's  saga. 


XXIV. 


THE   RECONCILIATION. 

/^OMPLETED  now  was  Balder's  temple.     Not  enclosed 
yj  As  heretofore  with  fence  of  wood ;  of  hammered  steel. 
With  golden  knobs  upon  each  bar,  was  built  the  fence 
Round     Balder's    ground.       Like     steel-clad     champions! 

ranged  for  war, 
With  halberds  and  with  golden  helms,  there  stood  it  now 
On  guard  around  the  sanctuary  of  the  god. 
Of  giant  stones  alone  the  massive  wall  was  built, 
And  joined  with  active  skill, —  a  noble  giant  work 
For  all  eternity  (as  is  Upsala's  shrine,) 
Where  Norseland  saw  its  Valhal  in  an  earthly  mold. 
It  stood  there  in  its  grandeur  on  the  mountain  cliff, 
And  mirrored  in  the  ocean  wave  its  lofty  brow. 
While  round  about  it,  like  a  zone  of  beauteous  flowers, 
Far  stretched  the  dale  of  Balder  with  its  sighing  groves. 
Its  song  of  birds,  a  home  where  peace  might  reign  supreme. 
High  rose  the  copper-bolted  portal,  and  within 
Two  colonnades  supported  on  strong  omoplates 


THE    RECONCILIATION.  193 

The  vaulted  canopy,  and  beautiful  it  hung 

Above  the  temple,  like  a  concave  shield  of  gold. 

At  farthest  end  stood  Balder's  altar.     It  was  hewn 

From  one  huge  block  of  northern  granite;  round  it  coiled 

A  graven  serpent,  covered  o'er  with  written  runes, — 

Profoundest  thoughts  from  Vala  and  from  Havamal; 

But  in  the  wall  above  was  left  an  open  space, — 

A  dark  blue  ground  all  filled  with  golden  stars;  and  there 

A  silver  image  sat — the  pious  god — as  calm 

And  mild  as  sits  the  silver  moon  in  heaven's  blue. 

Thus  seemed  the  finished  shrine.     In  couples  entered  now 

Twelve  temple  virgins,  clad  in  robes  of  silver  gauze,  >^ 

With  roses  glowing  on  their  cheeks,  and  roses  in 

Their  guileless  hearts.     Before  the  image  of  the  god, 

Around  the  altar  newly  consecrate  they  danced, 

As  light  spring  winds  above  the  flowing  fountains  flit. 

As  dance  the  forest  elves  amid  the  waving  grass, 

While  yet  the  morning  dew,  like  pearls,  lies  glittering  there. 

And  while  they  danced  they  joyful  sang  a  sacred  song 

Of  pious  Balder,  and  how  dearly  he  was  loved     • 

By  every  being;    how  he  fell  'neath  Hoder's  dart. 

And  earth  and  sea  and  heaven  wept.     Yet  sounded  not 

The  song  as  though  'twere  uttered  by  a  human  voice, 

IT 


194  fridthjof's  saga. 

But  as  a  tone  from  Breidablik,  from  Balder's  home ; 
Or  like  the  thought  of  lover  to  a  lonely  maid 
When  pipes  the  quail  his  deep  notes  in  the  hush  of  night, 
And  over  northern  birches  falls  the  moonlight  soft. 
Enraptured  Fridthjof  stood ;  he  leaned  upon  his  sword, 
And  gazed  upon  the  dance.    Sweet  childhood's  memories 

thronged 
His  vision  by, —  an  innocent  and  pleasant  folk, 
With  smiling  eyes  reflecting  heaven's  blue,  with  heads 
Surrounded  by  a  halo  of  bright  locks,  they  waved 
A  kindly  salutation  to  their  childhood's  friend. 
Then  sank  the  bloody  shadow  of  his  viking  life, 
With  all  its  conflicts,  all  its  perilous  exploits, 
Down  into  night,  and  in  his  fancy  stood  he  forth 
A  flower-crowned  monument  above  their  grave. 
And  ever,  as  the  song  increased,  his  spirit  soared 
From  earthly  dales  below  to  Valaskjalf  above ; 
Then  melted  human  hate  and  human  vengeance,  too, 
As  melts  the  icy  coat  of  mail  from  off"  the  cliff, 
When  shines  the  sun  in  spring.     A  sea  of  quiet  peace, 
Of  silent  ecstasy,  possessed  his  hero-soul ; 
It  was  as  if  he  felt  the  heart  of  nature  beat 
Against  his  own;    as  if,  deep  moved,  he  fain  would  fold 


THE    KECOXCILIATION.  195 

Creation  in  his  brotherly  embrace,  and  be  at  peace 
With  every  living  creature  seen  of  God. 
Then  came  into  the  temple  Balder's  priest  most  high, 
Not  young  and  beauteous  as  the  god,  but  tall  in  form, 
With  heavenly  mildness  beaming  in  his  noble  face, 
While  down  about  his  girdle  flowed  his  silver  beard. 
An  unused  reverence  possessed  proud  Fridthjof's  heart; 
The  eagle  wings  upon  his  helmet  meekly  drooped 
Before  the  aged  man,  who  thus  spoke  words  of  peace : 
"Son  Fridthjof,  welcome  hither  —  I've  expected  thee; 
The  strong  man  gladly  roves  around  the  earth  and  sea, 
A  berserk-like,  who  pallid  bites  the  shield's  hard  edge, 
But  weary  grown,  and  thoughtful,  wanders  home  at  last. 
The  powerful  Thor  went  many  times  to  Jotunheim, — 
But  spite  his  belt  divine  and  gloves  of  finest  steel, 
Still  sits  the  Utgard-Loke  on  his  lofty  throne  ; 
For  evil  is  itself  a  power,  and  will  not  yield, — 
And  piety  not  joined  with  power  is  children's  play; 
'Tis  like  the  sunbeams  on  the  breast  of  ^ger  thrown, — 
An  image  faint,  which  falls  and  rises  with  the  wave, 
Foundationless  and  insecure,  devoid  of  trust. 
But  power  not  joined  with  virtue  eats  itself  away. 
As  rust  the  buried  sword.     'Tis  life's  unchecked  carouse; 


196  kridthjof's  saga. 

The  heron  of  oblivion  hovers  o'er  the  cup, 

And  wlien  the  drinker  wakes,  he  blushes  for  his  deed. 

All  power  is  from  the  earth  of  Ymer's  body  formed; 

Wild  waves  and  flowing  waters  are  the  veins  therein, 

From  various  metals  are  its  tough  strong  sinews  forged. 

And  yet  'tis  empty,  desolate,  unfruitful,  till 

The  sun  its  light  and  warmth,  heaven's  piety,  sends  down. 

Then  spring  the  grass  and  flowers  a  web  of  many  hues; 

The  tree  lifts  up  its  crown  and  knits  its  golden  fruit, — 

And  man  and  beast  are  nourished  at  the  mother's  breast. 

'Tis  thus  with  every  child  of  Ask.     Opposing  weights 

Has  Odin  laid  within  the  scales  of  human  life, — 

And  when  they  balance  true,  then  even  stands  the  beam ; 

And  heavenly  piety  and  earthly. power  they're  called. 

The  power  of  Thor  is  great  whene'er  about  his  loins, 

Immovable,  he  girds  the  belt  of  strength  and  strikes. 

Indeed  is  Odin  wise,  when  TTrd's  clear  silver  fount 

He  looketh  down,  and  birds  swift  flying  come  to  bring 

The  asas'  father  tidings  from  the  world's  extreme: 

Yet  both  turned  pale,  the  radiance  of  their  starry  crowns 

Was  half  extinguished  when  the  pious  Balder  fell, — 

The  band  was  he  of  all  the  diadems  of  heaven. 

Then  withered  on  the  tree  of  time  its  splendid  crown, 


THE    RECOXCILIATION.  197 

And  Nidhug  gnawed  upon  its  root;    then  were  loosed 
The  powers  of  aged  night.     The  Midgard  serpent  flung 
Toward  heaven  its  poison-swollen  tail,  and  Fenris  howled, 
And  Surt's  swift  fire-sword  flashing  gleamed  from  Muspel- 

heim. 
Since  then  wlierever  thou  mayest  look  the  strife  goes  on, 
A  war  throughout  creation.     In  Vallial  crows 
The  cock  with  golden  comb.    Upon  and  'neath  the  earth 
The  blood- red  cock  to  battle  calls.     There  once  was  peace 
Not  only  where  gods  dwell,  but  also  on  the  earth  ; 
In  man's  as  in   the  high  gods'  thoughts  was  peace. 
Whatever  has  happened  here  below  has  also  chanced 
In  greater  measure  there;    humanity  is  but 
An  image  frail  of  heaven ;    it  is  as  Valhal's  light 
Reflected  in  the  shield  of  Saga  writ  with  runes. 
Its  Balder  hath  each  heart.     Remember'st  thou  ihe  time 
When  dwelt  within  thy  breast  sweet  peace  a  guest,  and  life 
As  joyful  seemed,  as  heavenly  calm,  as  song  bird's  dream 
When  summer  night-winds  to  and  fro  so  gently  wave 
Each  fragrant  blossom  sleeping  in   its  bed  of  green  ? 
Then  holy  Balder  still  abode  in  thy  pure  soul, 
Thou  asa-son,  thou  wandering  image  of  high   heaven. 
For  childhood  Balder  is  not  dead,  and  Hela  gives 


198  fridthjof's  saga. 

Again  her  prey  as  often  as  a  child  is  born. 

With  Balder  also  groweth  up  in  every  soul 

His  brother  Hoder,  blind,  the  child  of  night;  for  blind 

At  birth  is  evil  always,  like  the  young  of  bears,  and  niglit 

Its  mantle,  but  the  good  of  earth  rejoice  in  light. 

The  tempter,  busy  Loke,  always  ready  stands 

To  guide  the  blind  one's  murderous  hand.    The  missile  oft 

To  Valhal's  love  is  sent,  to  Balder's  tender  breast. 

Then  Hate  awakes  and  Violence  upon  its  prey 

Springs  forth ;  the  hungry  sword-wolf  prowls  o'er  hill  and 

dale, 
And  fiercest  dragons  wild  swim  o'er  the  bloody  waves. 
For  this  meek  Piety  a  powerless  shadow  sits 
One  dead  among  the  dead,  and  with  him  pallid  Hel, 
And  in  its  ashes  Balder's  sanctuary  lies. 
So  too  the  asa's  life  on  high  prefigures  that 
Mere  human  life  below,  and  both  are  but  the  thoughts, 
The  silent  thoughts  of  Odin  which  can  never  change. 
What  hath  been,  what  shall  be,  that  the  song  profound 
Of  Vala  knows, —  Time's  lullaby,  its  drapa  too. 
Creation's  annals  have  a  melody  the  same, 
And  man  may  hear  his  own  life's  history  therein. 
Dost  com])rehend  or  not?     'Tis  Vala  asketh  thee. 


THE    RECONCILIATION.  199 

Thou  seek'st  atonement;  know'st  thou  what  atonement  is? 

Oh,  Fridthjof,  look  me  in  the  eye  and  turn  not  pale! 

Round  earth  a  mediator  goes,  his  name  is  Death. 

A  spark  translucent,  from  eternity,  is  time; 

All  earthly  life  is  but  the  refuse  from  Allfather's  throne; 

Atonement  is  to  there  return  all  puritied. 

The  lofty  asas  fall  themselves,  and  Ragnarok 

The  day  of  their  atonement  is,  a  bloody  day 

On  Vigrid's  hundred  miles  of  plain ;  there  will  they  fall, 

But  fall  not  unavenged,  for  there  the  evil  die 

Forever,  but  the  fallen  good  arise  again, 

Refined,  from  out  the  flaming  pyre  to  higher  life. 

'Tis  true  the  star-crown,  pale  and  withered,  falleth  down 

From  heaven's  temple ;   earth  too.  sinks  beneath  the  sea, 

But  brighter  is  it  born  again,  and  joyous  lifts 

Its  flower  crowned  head  from  out  the  seething  waves, — 

And  new  created  stars  pursue  with  god-like  glance 

Their  silent  pathway  round  about  the  new-born  earth. 

But  on  the  green  hill-slopes  will  Balder  govern  then 

The  new-born  asas,  and  a  human  race  renewed. 

The  golden  tablets  filled  with  runes,  lost  long  ago, 

In  Time's  fresh  morning,  then  are  found  amid  the  grass 

On  Ida's  plain,  by  Valhal's  children  reconciled. 


200  fridthjof's  saga. 

The  fallen  good  in  death  are  only  tried  by  fire; 
It  is  atonement  made,  a  birth  to  higher  life, 
Which,  purified,  flies  back  to  him  from  whom  it  came, 
And  plays  a  guileless  child  upon  its  father's  knee. 
Alas!   that  all  the  best  is  found  beyond  the  grave, — 
That  gate  of  green  which  Gimle  opens ;   vile  is  all, 
Contaminated  all  that  dwells  beneath  the  stars. 
And  yet  there  is  atonement  found  in  life  itself, — 
A  humble  prelude  to  the  peace  of  heaven  above. 
'Tis  like  the  broken  chords  the  minstrel  strikes  upon 
The  harp,  when  he  with  skillful  fingers  wakes  the  song 
The  tone  attuning  with  a  gentle  hand,  before 
With  firmer  touch  he  grasps  the  golden  strings, — 
Grand  memories  of  old  alluring  from  their  grave, 
While  Valhal's  splendor  streameth  on  enraptured  eyes. 
For  earth,  indeed,  is  only  heaven's  shadow,  life 
The  grounds  in  front  of  Balder's  temple  in  tlie  sky. 
The  people  sacrifice  unto  the  gods;    the  steed 
Bedecked  with  gold  and  purple  is  an  offering  made. 
A  token  this  with  meaning  most  profound, —  for  blood 
Tints  red  tlie  morning  light  of  each  atonement  day. 
But  signs  are  not  the  substance,  they  can   not  atone,— 
Thine  own  transgressions  no  one  can  amend  for  thee. 


THE    RECONCILIATION.  201 

In  Odin's  breast  divine  the  dead  are  reconciled; 
Atonement  for  the  living  lies  in  their  own  hearts. 
One  offering,  I  know,  unto  the  gods  more  dear 
Than  smoke  of  victims.     'Tis  the  sacrifice  of  thine 
Own  vengeance,  and  thy  heart's  untamed  and  bitter  hate. 
Canst  thou  not  silence  them,  and  canst  thou  not  forgive, 

0  youth?     What  wilt  thou  then  in  Balder's  sacred  house? 
With  what  intent  hast  thou  this  holy  temple  reared? 
With    stones  is  Balder  not  appeased.     Atonement   dwells 
Below,  as  up  above,  alone  where  dwelleth  peace. 

With  all  thy  foes  and  with  thyself  be  reconciled, 
The  light-haired  god  will  then  be  reconciled  with  thee. 
They  have  a  Balder  in  the  south, —  the  virgin's  son, 
Who  by  the  AUfather  wise  was  sent  to  explain  the  runes 
Upon  the  norns'  black  shield  rand, —  unexplained   before^ 
His  battle-cry  was  peace,  his  conquering  sword  was  love; 
And  bhimeless  sat  the  dove  upon  his  silver  lielm. 
He  holy  lived  and  taught,  he  died  and  he  forgave, — 
And  under  distant  palms  his  grave  in  sunlight  lies. 
From  dale  to  dale  his  followers  wander,  it  is  said. 
And  melting  hardened  hearts,  and  laying  hand  in  hand, 
Establish  peace  upon  the  reconciled  eartli. 

1  do  not  know  tlie  doctrine  well,  but  dimly  luive  I 


202  FEIDTHJOF'b   SAGA. 

In  my  better  moments  guessed  what  it  may  mean, — 
And  every  human  heart  at  times  divines  as  well. 
I  know  the  time  will  come  when  it  will  lightly  wave 
Its  white  dove-pinions  over  all  our  northern  hills; 
But  tHat  day  come,  the  North  will  be  no  more  to  us; 
The  oaks  will  sigh  above  our  long-forgotten  graves. 
Oh,  fortunate  and  blessed  race!     Ye  who  shall  drink 
The  sparkling  beaker  of  that  light,  1  bid  you  hail ! 
It  will  be  well  if  it  can  drive  away  the  cloud 
Whose  humid  covering  hitherto  has  veiled  life's  sun. 
But  scorn  not  us,  who,  in  sincerity,  have  sought 
With  uuaverted  gaze  to  find  the  light  divine. 
The  AUfather  is  but  one,  though  many  herald  him. 

"  Thou  hatesfc  fiele's  sons.     And  wherefore  hatest  thou  ? 
Because  to  thee,  a  yeoman's  son,  they  did  not  choose 
To  give  theii^  sister,  who  belongs  to  Seming's  race, — 
The  noble  son  of  all- wise  Odin.     Their  descent  extends 
To  Valhal's  throne, —  and  pride  of  birth  is  tlieirs. 
Thou  sayest  that  birth  on  fortune,  not  on  worth,  depends. 
Of  merit  all  his  own,  0  youth,  is  no  one  proud, — 
But  only  of  his  fortune;    for  tiie  best  of  things 
Are  only  God's  good  gifts  to  man.    Art  thou  not  proud 


THE   RECONCILIATIOJS".  203 

Of  thy  heroic  deeds,  of  thy  superior  strength  ? 

Who  gave  thee  thy  great  strength?     Did  Asa-Thor  not 

knit 
Thy  sinewy  arms  as  firm  and  close  as  oaken  boughs  ? 
And  is  it  not  God's  spirit  high  which  joyous  beats 
Within  the  citadel  of  thine  arched  breast?    Is  not 
The  lightning  God's  which  flashes  in  thy  fiery  eyes? 
Beside  thine  infant  cradle  sang  the  haughty  norns 
The  prince-song  of  thy  life;   for  that  thy  merit  is 
No  whit  the  greater  than  the  king's  son's  for  his  birth. 
Lest  thy  pride  be  condemned  another's  censure  not. 
King  Helge  now  is  fallen." 

Here  broke  Fridthjof  in: 
"King  Helge  fallen?     When  and  where?" 

"Thou  canst  but  know 
That  while  tliou  here  wert  building,  he  was  on  the  march 
Among  the  Finnish  mountains.     On  a  lonely  crag 
There  stood  an  ancient  shrine, —  to  Jumala  'twas  built 
Abandoned  long  ago, —  the  door  was  now  fast  closed ; 
But  just  above  the  portal  still  there  stood  a  strange 
Old  image  of  the  god,  now  tottering  to  its  fall. 


204  fridthjof's  saga. 

But  no  one  dare  approach,  for  there  a  saying  rife 
Among  the  people  went  from  age  to  age,  that  he 
Who  first  the  temple  sought  should  Jumala  behold. 
This  Helge  heard,  and,  blinded  by  his  furious  wrath, 
Went  up  the  rained  steps  against  the  hated  god, — 
Intent  to  cast  the  temple  down.     When  there  arrived 
The  gate  was  closed, —  the  key  fast  rusted  in  the  lock. 
Then  grasping  both    the   door-posts,  hard   and   fierce   he 

shook 
The  rotten  pillars.     All  at  once,  with  horrid  crash, 
Down  fell  the  ponderous  image,  crushing  in  its  fall 
The  Valhal-son.     And  thus  he  Jumala  beheld. 
A  messenger  last  night  arrived  the  tidings  bore. 
Now  Halfdan  sits  alone  on  Bele's  throne.     To  him 
Thy  hand  extend,  to  heaven  thy  vengeance  sacrifice. 
That  offering  Balder  asks,  and  I,  his  priest,  require 
In  token  that  the  peaceful  god  thou  mockest  not. 
If  thou  refuse,  this  temple  then  is  built  in  vain. 
And  vainly  have  I  spoken." 

Then  stepped  Halfdan  in, 
Across  the  copper  threshold,  and  with  doubtful  look 
He  stood  aloof  from  him  he  feared  and  silence  kept. 


THE    KECONCILIATION.  205 

Then  Fridtlijof  loosed  the  breastplate-hater  from  his  side, 
Against  the  altar  placed  his  shield's  bright  golden  orb, 
And  weaponless  approached  his  silent  waiting  foe. 
"In  such  a  strife,"  said  Fridthjof,  in  a' kindly  voice, 
•'The  noblest  he  who  offers  first  his  hand  for  peace." 
King  Halfdan  blushed,  then  off  he  drew  his  glove  of  steel. 
And  hands  long  separated  met  in  friendly  clasp, — 
A  hearty  hand-shake,  steadfast  as  the  mountain's  base. 
And  then  the  aged  priest  revoked  the  ban  which  on 
The  outlawed  temple-violater  long  had  lain. 
'Twas  scarce  dissolved  ere  entered  Ingeborg,  attired 
In  bridal  robes  and  ermine  mantle,  with  her  maids, — 
So  glides  the  moon,  whom  stars  attend,  in  heaven's  vault ; 
With  tear-drops  in  her  lovely  eyes,  she  fell  upon 
Her  brother's  neck;   but  he,  with  deep  emotion,  laid 
His  sister,  grown  more  dear,  on  Fridthjof 's  faithful  breast; 
And  o'er  the  altar  of  the  god  she  gave  her  hand 
To  him,  her  childhood's  early  friend,  her  heart's  beloved. 


GLOSSAEY. 


For  such  explanations  as  are  not  found  in  fhe  original  notes  we  are  chiefly, 
indebted  to  Prof.  R.  B.  Anderson,  of  the  University  of  Wisconsin,  and  to  his 
valuable  work,  Norse  Mythology.  We  are  also  under  obligations  to  Mrs.  E. 
llasselqvist,  of  the  Augustana  College  of  Rock  Island,  Illinois. 

^GER.    The  god  of  the  stormy  sea. 
/Eger's  bosom.    The  sea. 
Alkiietm  (elf -home).     Frey's  dwelling-. 

Angantyr.     a  champion  who  was  slain  in  a  duel  by  Hjalmar  the 
vigilant,  and  was  buried  with  his  sword  Tirfing.     His  daughter 
Hervar  called  upon  her  dead  lather  for  the  sword,  and,  accord- 
ing to  the  story,  was  answered.     See  Canto  XXI JI. 
Angervadil  (grief -wader).     Fridthjof's   sword. 
Asa.    Uod.     It  is  used  as  a  prefix,  as  Asa-Thor,  Asa-Loke,  etc. 
Asa-sons.     A  people  who  came  from  Asia  and  settled  the  North, 

and  who  claimed  descent  from  the  gods. 
AsGARD.     Home  of  the  gods. 
Ask.    The  first  man. 
AsTRTLD.     Cupid. 

Balder  (the  best).  The  mildest,  the  wisest  and  the  most  eloquent 
of  the  gods.  He  is  the  god  of  innocence,  the  White  God. 
"  Balder  dies  in  nature  when  the  woods  are  stripped  of  their  foli- 
age, when  the  flowers  fade  and  the  storms  of  winter  howl.  Balder 
dies  in  the  spiritual  world  when  the  good  are  led  away  from  the 
paths  of  virtue,  when  the  soul  becomes  dark  and  gloomy,  forget- 
ting its  heavenly  origin.  Balder  returns  in  nature  when  the  gen- 
tle winds  of  spring  stir  the  air,  when  the  nightingale's  high  note 
is  heard  in  the  heavens,  and  the  flowers  are  unlocked  to  paint 
the  laughing  soil,  when  light  takes  the  place  of  gloom  and  dark- 


208  GLOSSARY. 

ness.  Balder  returns  in  the  spiritual  world  when  the  lost  soul 
finds  itself  again,  throws  off  the  mantle  of  darkness,  and  like  a 
shining  spirit  soars  on  wings  of  light  to  heaven,  to  God  who  gave 
it." — See  Norse  Mythology,  p.  294. 

Bauta-stone.  a  rough  stone  set  up  at  warriors"  graves,  and  hav- 
ing no  inscription. 

Berserk  (bear- coat).  The  old  Northern  athletes  or  champions  wore 
the  skins  of  bears,  wolves  or  reindeer,  and  went  into  battle 
with  loud  cries,  wearing  no  armor. 

Berserk-gang.    The  onset  of  the  berserks. 

BiFROST  ("the  tremhling  ivaif).     The  rainbow,  the  bridge  of  the  gods. 

B.TORN  (a  hear).     Notice  the  play  upon  this  word  in  Canto  X,  p.  94: 
'^Bjoni  attend  the  rudder. 
Grip  it  with  a  hears  paw." 

Blood-eaglk.  When  a  foe  deserved  especial  cruelty,  he  was  put 
to  death  by  carving  the  picture  of  an  eagle  on  his  back. — Set^ 
Canto  XVr,  p.  150. 

Brage.     God  of  poesy;  a  son  of  Odin. 

Bran.    Fridthjof's  dog. 

Breidablik  (hroad-gleatmng).    Balder's  abode. 

Burn  salt.     A  common  expression  for  making  salt. 

Belling  (day-sprinq).     Dawn. 

Delling's  son.     Day. 

DiSARSAL.    The  temple  of  the  goddesses. 

Dragon.     A  war  vessel. — See  descnption  of  Ellide,  Canto  III,  p.  30. 

Drapa.     a  funeral  hymn,  reciting  the  virtues  of  the  deceased. 

Efje-sound.     a  sound  in  the  Orkney  Islands. 

Fafner.  a  son  of  Hreidmar  and  brother  of  Regin  and  Otter. 
Fafner  and  Regin  demanded  of  their  father  a  share  of  the  gold 
obtained  of  Odin  as  Otter's  ransom.  Hreidmar  refused,  and 
Fafner  slew  his  father,  and,  taking  all  the  gold,  a.ssuraed  the 
form  of  a  dragon  and  fled.  He  concealed  the  gold  on  (Jnita 
heath,  where  he  was  found  by  Sigurd,  who,  at  the  instigation 
of  Regin,  slew  Fafner.     He  accomplished  this  by  digging  a  pit 


GLOSSARY.  209 

in  Fafner's  path  and  concealing  himself  therein  until  the 
dragon  passed  over  him,  when  he  thrust  his  sword  through 
Father's  heart.  See  Norse  Mythology,  p.  377;  also  the  story 
of  the  Volsungs  and  Niblungs,  translated  by  Magnusson  and 
Morris.     Sweden,  1870. 

Fafner's  bane.    The  slayer  of  Fafner;  Sigurd. 

Fenuis.  a  wolf,  and  one  of  Loke's  children.  Chained  by  the 
gods  until  Ragnarok,  he  gets  loose  and  conquers  Odin,  but  is 
himself  slain  by  Vidar. 

FoLKYANG  (the  folk-Jiel'J).     Freyja's  dwelhng. 

Forsete  (the  preskter).  Son  of  Balder  and  Nanna.  The  god  of 
justice. 

FosTKii- brother.  It  was  customary  in  the  North,  when  two  per- 
sons entered  into  friendship  for  life  and  death,  or,  as  it  was 
called,  foster-brothershijj,  that  each  wounded  himself  and 
allowed  his  blood  to  mingle  with  the  other's.  See,  concerning 
Frklthjof  and  Bjoni,  Canto  III,  p.  34. 

Frey  (a  lord).    The  god  of  harvests:  the  dispenser  of  wealth. 

Freyja.     Frey's  sister,  and  goddess  of  love. 

Frtgg.    The  wife  of  Odin  and  mother  of  Balder. 

FrTFioRc.  The  runes  taken  collectively  are  properly  called  the 
futhoyc,  the  word  being  mside  up  of  the  names  of  the  first  of 
the  runes.     Compare  alphabet. 

Gf:fjun.     The  goddess  ofmaids— — — — 

(jrE[RS-ODD  Cftpear-death).  Death  by  the  spear,  self-inflicted.  See 
Valhal. 

(tkud.     Frey's  wife,  and  verj-  beautiful. 

(ttmle.  The  heaven  of  heavens,  where  dwell  the  righteous  after 
Ragnarok. 

G,r  uj.ARHORN.  The  horn  of  Heiradal,  the  Saint  Peter  of  the  old 
Mythology.     It  was  heard  all  over  the  world. 

Glitner  (the  Glittering).     Forsete's  golden  dwelling. 

Gkoning-sound.     a  sound  between  the  Danish  Islands. 


210  GLOSSARY. 

Gudbrand's  Dale.  Canto  XIV,  p.  138.  In  the  diocese  of  Agger- 
lius,  celebrated  afterward  (1612)  for  a  battle  in  which  the 
Norwegians  slaughtered  the  forces  of  Col.  Sinclair,  the  Scotch 
ally  of  Christian  IV,  of  Denmark. 

Hagbart.  a  sea-king,  who  became  secretly  betrothed  to  Signe,  a 
princess,  thereby  gaining  the  enmity  of  her  father,  who  cap- 
tured and  hung  him.  Signe,  unwilling  to  survive  her  betrothed, 
set  fire  to  her  dwelling  and  was  burned  to  death.—  See  Cantos 
XVI  and  XVII. 

Hagring.    Fata  morgana. 

H-AVAMAL.  The  high  song  of  Odin,  containing  many  wise  precepts 
for  the  government  of  men. 

Hel.    The  goddess  of  death. 

HiLDER.    The  goddess  of  war. 

HoDER.  The  blind  god;  brother  of  Balder.  Tempted  by  Loke,  he 
slew  Balder  with  the  mistletoe. 

Ida's  Plain.    Where  the  gods  assemble  ai'ter  Ragnarok. 

Idun.  Wife  of  Brage.  She  is  the  rejuvenating  goddess,  the  "  ever- 
renovating  spring,  and  hence  she  is  dressed  in  j^reen.— <S'<^(' 
Canto  7,  p.  5.     She  keeps  the  apples  of  immortality. 

JoTUNHEiM.    The  abode  of  the  giants. 

LoKE.  The  evil  one.  "He  is  the  sly,  treacherous  father  of  lies. 
In  appearance  he  is  beautiful  and  fair,  but  in  his  mind  he  is 
evil,  and  in  his  inclinations  he  is  inconstant.  Notwithstanding 
his  being  ranked  among  the  gods,  he  is  the  slanderer  of  the 
gods,  the  grand  contriver  of  deceit  and  fraud,  the  reproach  of 
gods  and  men.  Nobody  renders  him  divine  honoi-s.  He  sur- 
passes all  mortals  in  the  arts  of  perfidy  and  craft." — .SVt 
Norse  Mythology,  p.  373. 

MiDOARD.    The  earth;  the  abode  of  man. 

MiDOARD-SERPENT.  A  child  of  Loke.  It  was  cast  into  the  sea  li.\ 
Odin,  and  it  grew  till  it  reached  around  the  whole  world. 

MiMER.    The  wise  giant  keeper  of  the  holy  well  of  wisdom. 


GLOSSARY.  .211 

Morven's  Hills.     Hills  in  the  north  of  Scotland. 

MusPELHEiM.    The  abode  of  fire. 

Muspel's  sons.     Flames. 

Nanna.  Balder's  wife;  goddess  of  flowers.  She  died  heartbroken 
at  Balder's  death. 

Nastrand  (the  shore  of  corpses).  Where  the  wicked  are  punished 
after  Ragnarok. 

NiDHUG.  The  dragon  which  hves  in  the  fountain  Hvergelmar  and 
gnaws  the  root  of  Ygdrasil. 

NiFLHEiM.  The  world  of  mists;  the  lower  world;  the  place  of 
punishment. 

NoRNs.  The  Fates.  They  are  three:  Urd,  the  past;  Verdande, 
the  present,  and  Skald,  the  future.  They  control  the  destinies 
of  gods  and  men. 

Oder,     Freyja's  husband. 

Odtn.  The  chief  of  the  gods.  He  is  the  all-pervading  spirit  of 
the  world,  the  governor  of  the  universe,  the  author  of  war 
and  the  inventor  of  runes  and  of  poetry.  In  appearance  he  is 
old,  tall,  one-eyed  and  long-bearded.  He  wears  a  broad- 
brimmed  hat  and  a  many-colored  coat,  and  carries  a  spear 
called  Gungner, 

Odtn's  birds.  Odin  has  two  ravens,  Hugin  and  Munin  (reflection 
and  memory),  which  every  day  fly  around  the  world  and  return 
to  hhn  with  intelligence  of  all  that  happens. 

Peasant.    The  piece  of  lowest  rank  in  chess;  a  pawn. 

Ragnarok  (the  twilight  of  the  qods).  The  day  of  the  destruction 
of  the  world,  and  of  the  regeneration  of  gods  and  men.  See 
Canto  XXIV. 

Ran  (the  rohhcr).     Goddess  of  the  sea:   wife  of  TEger. 
Rota.     One  of  Valhals  maidens:  a  valkyrie. 

Runes.  The  letters  of  the  ancient  Scandinavian  alphabet  were 
called  runes  (secrets).  The  runes  were  sixteen  in  number,  and 
previous  to  the  introduction  of  Christianity  they  were  supposed 


212  GLOSSARY. 

to  have  been  invented  by  Odin  himself.  A  knowledg-e  of  them 
was  for  a  long  time  confined  to  a  few,  who  used  them  for  the 
purposes  of  sorcery. 

Rune-stone.  A  stone  inscribed  with  runes,  and  set  up  at  graves 
or  elsewhere  as  a  monument. 

Saga.    Goddess  of  history;   hence  a  history. 

Seming.  a  son  of  Odin.  The  early  kings  of  Norway  traced  their 
lineage  directly  to  Seming. 

SiGNE.     See  Haghart. 

Sigurd.    The  slayer  of  Fafner.    See  Fafner. 

Skinfaxe  (shining  mane}.    The  horse  of  Bay. 

Skoal.    A  health. 

Skuld.    The  future.    See  Norns. 

Sleipner  (the  slipperj.    Odin's  horse  with  eight  feet. 

Sokvabek.    Dwelling  of  Saga. 

SuRT..   God  of  fire. 

Thing  (pronounced  ting).  A  deliberative  assemblage  of  Norsemen, 
composed  of  all  who  were  capable  of  bearing  arms.  It  was 
held  in  the  open  air.  The  thingsmen  expressed  approval  of 
any  measure  by  striking  the  shield  with  the  sword. 

Thor.  The  second  of  the  gods;  the  thunderer;  the  siibduer  of  the 
frost  giants.  He  has  a  red  beard;  his  weapon  is  a  short- 
handled  hammer  called  Mjolner.  He  is  girt  with  a  belt  of 
strength,  and  wears  iron  gloves.  His  sons  are  Magne  and 
Mode,  strength  and  courage. 

Urd.    The  past.    See  Norns. 

Urd's  fount.  The  fountain  from  which  the  norns  sprinkled  the 
tree  Ygdrasil. 

Utgard-Lokk.     The  Loke  of  the  giants,  —  called  Vtgard,  because 

♦•     he  dwelt  in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  world,  Jotunhehn. 

Vala.    A  prophetess. 

Valaskjalf.     Odin's  dwelling. 

Valhal  (the  hall  of  the  slainj.     Only  those  who  fell  by  wounds 


GLOSSARY.  213 

received  in  battle,  or  self-inflicted,  were  entitled  to  the  joys  of 
Valhal,  where  they  were  feasted  by  Odin  and  attended  by  the 
Valkyries. 

Valkyries  (choosers  of  the  slain).  Goddesses  who  serve  in  Val- 
hal and  go  on  Odin's  errands. 

Var,    The  goddess  who  presides  over  marriages. 

Vegtam.  a  name  assumed  by  Odin  when  he  went  to  consult  the 
vala  concerning  the  fate  of  Balder.  —  See  Norse  Mythology. 
p.   281. 

ViDAR  (forest).  The  silent  god;  a  .son  of  Odin.  He  slays  the 
Fenris-wolf  at  Ragnarok. 

ViNGOLF  (foor  of  friends).     Freyja's  dwelling. 

VoLUND.     A  renowned  smith  con-esponding  to  Vulcan. 

Ygdrasil.  An  ash  tree;  the  tree  of  the  world.  The  norns 
sprinkled  the  top  with  water  from  Urd's  fountain  and  thus 
kept  it  alive,  nlthough  Nidhug  gnawed  its  roots. 

Ymer.  An  enormous  giant  slain  by  the  gods,  and  of  whose  body 
they  created  the  world. 


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